I am always so happy after finals. I mean, I still have two left, but the weight of two has been lifted off of me. So much so that I walked back from Faculty Hall with Janitha singing Disney songs. I am fully aware that makes me a homosexual seven-year-old, but what can you do? I took our picture. I also took Lance's picture on the elevator this morning. It's a sad time, those two going to Spain next semester.
This afternoon, Justin's gonna come over, and we're going to "study" for our EDP final. That ought to be fun. The "studying," that is. I'll be so glad to be done with that class. It was definitely the worst. It was just a burden having to go to a class so late in the day and worrying about all those observations that I never did. But as time wore on, I realize ol' Lewis ain't that bad. After all, he is god.
My sister called while I was out partying--I mean, taking finals. She wants me to call her back. I hate calling her at work. I feel like I'm intruding and it's some uncover operation because she whispers and stuff. Strange times. But I guess if I was a patient at the gyno, I wouldn't want to listen to my nurse talk to her sister either.