The night before spring break

Well Blogdom,its the night before spring break. Which means its one day till I go home and do absolutely no work for a full week at home rather than be at college and sit and do absolutely no work for the whole semester. Its not really that spring break is a time which you dont have to do work anymore, its just the only time in spring where you won't be penalized for doing nothing. See that? I used italics. That signifies more of an emphasis on something. What if i just went crazy and started using italics on all sorts of random words. That would be spring break worthy. 

right now i'm faced with the insurmountable task of packing. i'm staring at my room right now, seeing bits of carpet here and there, but mostly just a bunch of clothes. i have old fast food bags and napkins from who knows how long (i dont think there's any food left, so its not that bad...) my room smells strangely of shower gel mixed with old, used towels, which is not the most pleasant smell. well, at first its quite pleasant (thanks to the wonderful people at Olde Spice...c'mon sponsors...), then the towel smell creeps in and you feel claustrophobic. life is kinda like this sometimes, you know you have to get your life straightened up, but you really dont know where to start. its a hopeless feeling where you end up deciding its best to not try at all and hope maybe your roommate comes in and just does your laundry. see, thats called an illustration. it is a story meant to help convey a point. but seriously, alot of times we feel like one day we're going to grow up all the sudden. like one day we will wake up and say, "i'm finally an adult!" but really we dont grow up till we start acting like it, the rest follows. its all about discipline, no not that kind, and definitely not the other kind you're thinking of...the good kind. the kind where you stop going to the texas inn and 3 in the morning and instead decide to go to bed a bit earlier, the kind where you decide to start exercising and start ordering salads at resturaunts, the kind of discipline where you start wearing tube socks half-way up your calf with velcroe shoes and pleated khaki shorts that are higher off the knee than any Christian schoolgirl would ever dare to wear...oh, that might just be growing old...same thing really.