fail.

Today (because according to myself I'm going to catch up eventually):

Today has been good and bad. When it was good it was very, very good and when it was bad it was horrid.

Good: discussing spiritualism in art, the 'owly glasses look' architecture rule and the fact that everyone ever is chillin' with Harold Holt.
Very, very good: catching up with Tagen, having (proper) conversations and knowing that no matter what she's there.

Bad: needing to talk to Triplets.
Horrid: knowing I might not get the chance tomorrow.

Being late for Ext1 and being informed I am, in fact, a drug dealer was pretty brilliant. This was followed by the numerous lols I have come to expect from my class. More on that in their own post.
Painted 12 leaves and a twig during lunch time, surrounded by screaming children. Felt proud.

Went home and painted a ridiculous amount of pink dirt. Felt less proud.

Am sending this to you now Lenni.

<3

Friday.

I have no idea what to say about Friday.
I thought that I'd be able to say something insightful, meaningful. Something that could prove to myself that perhaps I understand life a little better now.

But I don't really and the lesson should never have happened.

Dammit.

One hundred and seven is a terrible number for two reasons:
a) That is how many days there stand between myself and hsc-completion
2) It's not divisible by three.

I will forgive it both of these transgressions and MAKE AN EFFORT (please appreciate this Belinda!)
In an attempt to make this effort properly I'm going to actually turn that number into a hideous fallacy -and include the previous four days.

So really I should have called it onehundredandeleven.
It's still not divisible by three
But 111 is certainly cooler.

Dammit.