And the Lord spake, "Eric: Thou shalt get thy shit together."

Here is an artist's representation of my life right now:



As you can see, the Earth itself appears to have opened up beneath (a drunk version of) me, ready to swallow me deep into its fiery core to struggle, fail, and die an ignominiously (PLUS FIVE FOR UNNECESSARY VERBOSITY) horrible death.

Have to edit a paper for "The Seven Technical Sins of Undergraduate Writing" tomorrow by 5PM, read all of Turgenev's Rudin and compose a 4-page paper on it tomorrow night as well as do a write up for my stupid Anthro 9 project.

And, naturally, I'm on the internet. Why is my work ethic so fucking dazzling?

My friend Jane is currently asking me questions about applying for Campus Events for next year. Talking to her made me realize how much fucking fun CEC is. We're such ballers. I don't really want to imagine life without it. Ok, maybe I would:



Man, Photoshop kicks my ass.

And to wash away the wormwood of photoshopping mediocrity (DING DING), shove some Akron/Family in your ears. Much love to Lee for the recommendation.

Peace, bitches.

-Eric