spring break my butt

I miss the quarter system. Three sets of finals can be a pain, and, sure, I always wasted away spring quarter returning to a healthy state of brownness, but at least I had a real spring break! I'm in Chicago now, and I'm having a lovely time. Gary's cooking me yummy food, and I drive 1/10th of my daily commute dropping him off at work. I don't need to schlep myself to class or wake up pre-dawn or suffer bad cafeteria food. Nevertheless, my brain persists in school-mode. Last night I couldn't sleep because visions of applications, outlines, and casebooks swirled in my head for an hour. Good thing Gary's wine-scented breath lulled me to sleep.

To soothe me during the day, I've listened to Jack Johnson's album, oh, twenty times this week. Since my ex-boyfriend ran away with another brown girl who loved Jack Johnson, I couldn't listen to his music without being physically ill. The worst part was that she raved on about how great he was long before "Bubble Toes" came on the radio, which means that she could have been ... cool. Ewww. Try as I might, I couldn't resist him. Damn him and his clever lyrics and his catchy beats and his classical guitar and his artful CD jacket and his handsome good looks. Damn him!