It's All About the Benjamins

Jump to Comments Yeah, so I’m about to go to Spanish on Monday, and am printing out what’s due for that day. The printer freaks out and eats a couple sheets of paper. Now, normally I’d just staright away email the work to Mrs Conley and go to class none the worse. But, you know, I just bought this freaking printer and oh now the paper tray isn’t even reseating itself!

I was incensed. But, somehow, I think this focused my consumer electronic diagnostic prowess, and I was able to repair the printer, remove all the jammed paper (not easy in these new inkjets — they don’t have a service hatch on the back, so there’s areas that you basically need hemostats to remove paper, but I’m elite), reseat the paper tray and gain an appreciation of the operational mechanics of my newest major purchase. Of course, this tripartite victory came twenty minutes into class, so, yeah, I had to skip. Still got all my work turned in fine, and I can miss roughly three hours of class with no penalty so, you know, whatever. Especially in a course where most of the grade comes from out-of-class structured (thank goodness) groupwork.

Had two different Polisci tests today, and both of them were rather easy. French class went pretty well eventhough I didn’t comprehend the reading. My English language copy of Madame Bovary came in today, and so did the fabulous Cliff’s Notes. The last time I used one of those road-sign-themed librettos was to get myself out of finishing freaking David Copperfield for Reading Counts — no, it was still Accelerated Reader back then — before the end of the first nine weeks. I got all 64 for points for that book, and didn’t have to read another book on the list for the rest of the year.

I’ve actually been in a rather good mood before I go to bed the past several nights, which is the reverse of the usual situation. I still need to freaking finish unpacking and clean up the mess I’ve made of this room, though. Thank goodness room czech wasn’t this week. Oh, and whichever suitemate leaves his pots and pans in the kitchen sink to moulder — well, he’s going to find that they’ve been translated to the salla delle garbagio pretty soon here. Oh ho, wordplay with both the meanings of translate. I’m so clever I need to have my own late-night TV show. I’d settle for a jazz-rock band though, as long as it means copious amounts of Hammond B3s and, like, one of those hollow-bodied Gibsons — the symmetrical ones like B.B. King has, not the Les Paul. INTERNETS, ARE YOU READY TO ROCK?