'twas the night before Thanksgiving

and all through the house
not a procrastinator was stirring. . .

Seriously. I haven't done shit. I write a little each day. Some days I work. And that's mostly it. I need to consider changing my title, "The Procrastinator Does Very Little, Most of Which is Quite Dull." Catchy. I'm building up these elaborate fantasies of what will happen once I get back into school. I'll ace all of my classes (I probably will). I'll join tons of groups (maybe a couple). I'll meet everyone (even celebrities, somehow). I'll land the most amazing, world-changing, summer internship ever (apparently there's a company that specializes in my awesomeness). But I haven't even heard back from the school yet. I'm not even sure where to begin in my situation. And I'm not doing much of anything now. I'm putting it all off. Once I get back in school. . . Once I get back in school. . . Once I get back in school. . . But last time I was in school, I wasn't the most active. Once I'm out of school. . . Once I'm out of school. . . Once I'm out of school. . . Screw that, dude. Do stuff now. . . Do stuff now. . . Do stuff now. . . Heh, repetition gets a little repetitive after a while.

I'm booked pretty solid for the holiday. Good. I just have to avoid that letdown after everyone leaves.

I'm grateful for pizza (20).