Tuesday, February 25, 2003

I didn't go to work yesterday. I didn't do much of anything. I finally washed my hair and then took the light-rail to school, with every intention of going to class. Alas, I was far-too-drugged to sit through a three-hour class. I told my professor that I was pretty sure that I would cry or confess my love to everyone in class if I stayed. He agreed that I shouldn't go to class. Erin and I went to the library instead and ate the leftover pizza she had in her backpack. Then we took the bus to the 16th Street Mall and walked around. I didn't feel guilty once for not being in class. That's how good the pizza was. Spinach and Pine Nuts. Mmm. I didn't go to work again today. I can't believe how easy it is to sit around and convalesce. I don't feel sorry for myself. I just don't feel like doing anything.

This is the email I just sent my professor for tonight's statistics class:

I am writing to tell you that I can't come to class. I cracked a rib and chipped my shoulder while snowboarding on Sunday. As I am heavily medicated, I am pretty sure it's in my best interest to stay home tonight.

I have spoken with my group and they said that they will give me the notes from tonight's lecture.


Here's his reply:
Feel better soon.

Cracked ribs are painful, I know.

I cannot contain the excitement of my life when I do absolutely nothing. I think I am going to go watch daytime television. I may even walk to the coffeeshop later.

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