Please, Keep the Book

I make such a big deal about having a planner for each new semester in school.  And each semester I make a vow during the first week of classes to religiously write down my assignments and commitments and actually refer to my planner.  I have this notion that I would be so much more productive and mature if I stopped trying to keep everything I have to do in my mental calendar or written on my hand day to day because that's what I've done my entire life. Why I thought senior year of college would be any different, I do not know.  And of course, it's not different at all.  What week of the semester is this anyways?  Like 7?  I haven't had anything major due within the past week (besides a midterm) so I decided to do a quick peek at a few of my syllabuses this morning once I got back to my apartment...because my actual planner was telling me I have a pretty laid back week ahead of me.

 Thank God I don't trust the damn planner I keep for myself.  I have two 7 page research papers and two midterms within the next week.  Not only do I hate procrastinating for things, I HATE NOT KNOWING THINGS.  Mondays are my busiest days.  I literally have a one hour break between 2-3.  As I'm sure most of you know, one hour is not enough time to get anything productive done.  Seriously, I think today I peed, checked my email, got a bagel, ate the bagel, read the LIFE section of USA Today (the least news worthy section) and bam, my hour was up.  Then I get a little period of time between 6 and 8 where I go back to my apartment to eat before work.  Two hours is a little more sufficient than one hour, but I NEED to eat dinner.  Plus at this point I'm so overwhelmed with all the work I seem to have unknowingly created for myself that I didn't know what to do.  Paralyzed with whelm and early 20's angst.  Logically, I made a chunk of microwavable vegetable lasagna for a quick dinner.  Yesterday Gina was telling me about her hangover from hell and she puked a few times.  That was literally all I could think of when I was looking at the dinner I provided myself tonight.

Chunk of microwavable lasagna.

In better news, my shift at the library flew by tonight.  I was actually very focused on my homework until I was rudely interrupted by the security alarm we have at the front door.  I've been working there for years and I'm still unsure of the protocol for what to do when the alarm goes off because it happens probably once a shift.  Truth:  I usually just ask in my intimidating voice if they're stealing any books.  They always say no.  Shocker.  And I stare at them for a second then let them go.  The alarm went off tonight on two boys, and one of them looked so guilty.  I asked him if he was stealing a reference book or something, and I thought I was catching him in the act FO SHO.

His response:  "No I'm not.  But did you want to come over and frisk me?"

 Me, contemplating whether or not I should be repulsed or impressed: "I'd rather not.  You may go now."

xxxx
A