George Stroumboulopoulos is my boyfriend, he said so himself just now. He also said Sloan is here tonight. I think I was ranting about George Stroumboulopoulos and Sloan together like this just a moment ago. The other night he talked to Margaret Atwood who seems to be going through some kind of second childhood. She gave him a mole necklace made with ribbon from her recycling box and convinced him to play piano for her while she sang, terribly, a hymn from The Year of the Flood. This was not the same Margaret Atwood who I listened to read bitter poetry a few years ago, monotone and dour. (You fit into me like a hook into an eye, a fish hook an open eye.) I wonder what has happened to her, why she is so changed. It's heartening to think we can change this much, even in our sixties. Unless this is the onset of Alzheimers.
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The school board has moved to save money this year by cutting the number of days of class. By shutting the building down, there is great savings to cost for water, heat, electricity, etc.. This is supposed to be upsetting, but I like it very much that I now have a five day weekend for no reason other than inadequate funding for public education.
Unfortunately both term papers were due today, rather than after the weekend, and I've turned in two papers that are each lame in their own special way. Between the first round of papers and this one I totally lost focus and interest and now I'm pretty sure I've messed up my average. I had until midnight to hand them in but instead of working on the papers I pulled dead leaves off the Benjamina and then wasted time looking for the package of guitar strings that went missing a few weeks ago. I did not find them, and the papers are going to be B- at best.
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Remembrance Day bothers me a lot.
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