I for sure deserve a sparkly present. Which is good because on Friday night I bought myself a present I didn't even remotely deserve. Two actually. I bought myself the fourth season of Angel because I had to, because whatever rat bastard had it out of the library wasn't returning it and they had had it for like a week, and you may not know but CONNOR SUNK ANGEL TO THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN IN A BOX at the end of the third season, so I really couldn't wait for the lazy loser to return it to the library before discovering whether Angel still loved Connor or not. And I got myself a discount card at FYE also, which makes me feel mad excited, and also extremely benevolent. I informed all my family members about this discount card business at once, and with a careless flap of my hand I assured them graciously that they must feel perfectly free to make use of it as often as they chose, and then I returned to my book feeling smug and philanthropic, and thinking angelic Sara-Crewe-like thoughts.
Anyway, very fortunate I did this over the weekend, because now I have definitely earned it. This evening I have done two impressive things, not counting all the Moby Dick reading I have done. First I invented a really good title for my American literature paper, and then I wrote my entire thesis paragraph. This was Disciplined of me, as I would have preferred to be reading The Head of the House of Coombe or Jane Eyre; and Jane Eyre wouldn't even have been procrastinating as I am writing a paper on it. And then, having accomplished that magnificent feat, I proceeded to fix something around the house.
Yes! I am handy! I fixed a thing! I did it using only my genius! (And a chair for added height, and my car key as a crude lever.) I am a handy fixing-things-up-around-the-apartment kind of girl now! I can plunge toilets and I can fix doors! I fixed a door! With my EXTREME BRILLIANCE.
As a prize for myself I will go to bed early, which may not sound like a prize but oh my God it is. And tomorrow I'm going to exercise at the rec center again in my very authentic exercise trousers, which by now have probably forgotten who I am because it's been weeks since I could be bothered to trot down to the rec center and do virtuous exercising. And every day I will work on papers for one and a half hours, minimum, so that I will not be overwhelmed and tearful when it is my birthday time.
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