Here I am, another typical Sunday morning, rubbing my eyes trying to get them to open wide enough to see what am I typing.

This routine is just about getting too familiar now. Every weekend is spent in a drunken stupor with regrets on Monday morning of all the work that could have been completed over the course of the weekend. But then that is what college life is about, isnt it ? Nah, seems more like a blatant shirking of responsibility coupled with a ever present feeling of self-worthlesness. Not to mention the bleary eyes and dry, itchy throat.

Where is my cup of coffee?

As I sit in bed typing this note I know that I have the entire day ahead of me and loads of time to get loads of things accomplished. But then what is a Sunday if not one meant to be spent lazing around. Work can wait, and so can life. Might as well get it while the going lasts.

On a sidenote last night I finally discovered how does toast really burn. All this while I thought that people who managed to screw-up something as simple as toast had to be the extremest form of retards possible. But now I am forced to sympathise with them. After all I have been there myself. No thanks, Homer.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.