I am sitting at the kitchen table, computer on, mind at ready. Feet proped on a cookbook filled bent cardboard box, I am the epitome of...nothing. This is the same place I've sat through out the week studying for the GRE. My experience thus far is that I am terrible with vocabulary, quasi decent in recalling algebra and geometry, and abominal in argumentive essays! And I do me abominal. Oh, I understand the idea behind a five paragraph essay: introduction, three subject paragraph, and conclusion. I can even outline one. The area of error is flowing logical ideas from my head to the computer in under 30 minutes. Nope, not my forte.
Instead, I sit here, typing, ignoring the closed purple Kaplan study guide and notation filled lavander notebook paper, blogging. Not truly guilt-free, but undeniably intimidated by a single occurance a week from now.
You are forewarned. When asking what I've been up to, what is going on, there is not much else. Well, that is where all my attention is. The last week of my summer cafeteria job ended on Friday. General cleaning the first half of next week, followed by an immediate jump back into the catering life style. My cohorts from this summer are moving to Texas and retiring come Spring. Dining Services revamped organizational responsibility. None of which directly affects me, though I wish it did. I am in the need of change in my life. I am begining to want to rthink this wish.
Last week I was in Denver at a Westcoast Swing dance convention. I enjoyed it, save for the communication abilities of the carpool driver. Dancing and meeting new peopel is a fun combination. While remaining unobtrusive I did flirt (yea me) and exchange a few bits of information with memebers of the oopposite sex. My realistic optimism keeps me in check. So I was suprised when one asked about coming down with a group of people to come dancing in a few weeks. It is nice to make friends.
What has all this to do with cheese and grapes, you may ask. Truth be told, not much. Only that was breakfast today. It wasn't until now that my roommate reminded me it was fast sunday. Last week wasn't the first of the month I guess. Look what vacations do to your sense of time.
