Friday, February 6, 2009

static.

Half the time I still feel like I'm playing dress-up. The clothes, the tights, the hair, the shoes. All meticulously planned and orchestrated, written down in notebooks and checked off after each wear.

The 9-5 is surreal, to say in the least. There's something about walking to work each morning, 7 degree temperature and all, and doing something you love for hours. It never feels like work when I'm there, but the second I get home it feels like 10 hours of hard labor. I'm too restless to stay in, but too exhausted to go out and I can never justify coming home at 3AM with skipping class the next day because now it's really not an option.

Maybe surrendering to academia post grad isn't the best idea (although seeing as I have yet to hear back from a single school I don't think it will be an issue.) We'll see how this one turns out.

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