detracting distractions

or, how i learned to live with the debt and stopped worrying about it. Or not, as the case may be. moneymoneymoneymoneymoney. Ate my fucking day, ate it like a lion scarfing a fucking rabbit. And it shall continue for a bit longer yet, the crisis born of my trying to be responsible and getting bit in the ass for it.

Did I mention I have grading to do? You know it's grim when the grading seems flat out fabulously fucking appealing compared to the rest of the shit taking my time right now. Although last night's drunken post is amusingly coherent.

Edit. I'm counting five love posts before the whingeing appeared. That, then, must be my "thing", as a friend would put it. Not just ventriloquising interior monologues for others, not computerz, not just being the gay/straight/metro drama queen, but kvetching about it. Born to kvetch, as a different friend pointed out, alas has been taken as an autobiography title. Nothing like being in a hurry to get a momentous life/money thang out of the way so I can get back to shameless romantic lust with YCT. I should probably write EVV1, as well as QFF (Quickly Fading Friend), but bugger it.