About that last assignment...I got it done, but I sent it in at about 12:35 am, so it's probably gonna be counted late...which it technically is. Oh, well. I'm nothing if I'm not a procrastinator and a hater of English. I have another assignment due tomorrow. I'm supposed to have read four chapters in my book, too. I haven't started any of it. Hope I get off work fairly early, because I'm starting at 7:00 am again. I don't even know where I'm working or what I'm doing. I should probably put some gas in the car, in case I have to go...well anywhere, really. I hardly have anything in there. It's almost to the point of running on fumes.

Boy, I got so much crap running through my head right now it's not even funny. I'm working two jobs, taking an online class, and I really gotta drop a deuce. It's kinda hard to think.

So I was working yesterday, weed-eating a cemetery, and I discovered something. You've never truly eaten weeds until you've had a twig embedded in your shin about a quarter inch. I didn't realize it was even there until I ran out of gas and went to refill. By that time, of course, the blood around it had dried and was holding it in there, far deeper than I had anticipated. So I just left it there until I was done. Actually, I left it there til I got home and got to show everybody. To me it was like when a tornado blows a pencil through a telephone pole, except much less damage was done. Getting back to the term "eaten weeds", what is the actual term to describe weed-eating in the past tense? Weed-eated? That sounds stupid. Weed-ate? Equally dumb. And to say that you ate weeds gives people the wrong impression. I'm not sure there is an acceptable term for that.

Hang on a minute.... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...Okay, I'm back from the bathroom and feeling about twenty pounds lighter. I think before I gave in to the call of nature I had been thinking of something to say, but it escapes me now. Whatever it was is no longer on the top of my head, since I made so much room down lower.

I saved a turtle from the road the other day.

I think this is what they call writer's block. I can't think of anything interesting to say. I can't even think of any strange thoughts I've had recently. My dream last night was wierd, but I can't even remember what that was.

I'm gonna go have some pie.