It still looks like CNFer numero dos is going to keep her Wyoming spot. Do I check every hour, to see if she's changed her mind? No! Of course not! That would be Crazy.
I couldn't quite get out of bed this morning. It's good if Wyoming doesn't happen, I can't help but believe, but man I miss the mountains so much. But, if the universe feels that I need an MA, then I will abide the universe's not-so-subtle recommendation. Because, see? I am LEARNING, universe.
So the morning was spent doing about an hour of Spanish homework (my first past tense! fue ¿Qué día fue ayer? Viernes!) and definitely not staring at my iPhone.
It took forever, but I eventually made it to the library. I gutted a third of the blackbird essay and then added at least as much new material as I had cut. The goal had been to double what I had, but I am trying not to cling too hard to my failure to meet it.
When I got home, I tried to fix my fucked up printer. It's a huge bastard, and suddenly acquired a chronic and evil jam. I figured out the cause of the jam in about 2 minutes, fixed it and was feeling like such a badass. My prideful boasting was short lived however, as the repeated crumpled up and jammed pages seem to have tripped some untrippable error with the print head. This is why I hate these crazy complex machines. This is why I want an old portable typewriter. Now I have to throw out a thirty pound piece of equipment that should work just fine. And now I need to buy a new printer.
Mostly I am just frustrated at my inability to fix something. Here's where I can take it to the next level of crazy, though: I'm signing up for the next 2-8 years being years where a printer or a new head gasket or a root canal might may not be possible no matter how necessary.
How the hell does my brain do that? And how do I stop it? In better news, I bought Tallest Man on Earth with my last ten dollars and I don't even regret it (yet).