I win at life, finally.

I finally figured out an awesome New Years resolution that will definitely, absolutely, positively change my life and that is both simple and straight to the point!!!!! None of that wishy washy I'll be healthy and compassionate and not hurt trees and study consistently with consistent effort of the most consistent manner stuff. I know it's March, but seriously, better late than never!
My resolution iiiiiiiiiiiiiiis that:
I WILL RETURN ALL MY LIBRARY BOOKS ON TIME! This encouraes me to actually read the books, I hope, or at the very least, prevents me from having to squander my hard earned money on fines! Hooray! Yay. You don't have to care:D
Happy Monday, for tomorrow.
On a totally unrelated note:

A typical conversation with a customer at 7 in the morning.

Customer: *yawns*
Me: Hello! How's it going? (this is where my chirpiness ends)
Customer: Fine...2 croissants thanks.
Me: mumble mumble? Mumble!
(I can never really talk until I've been up for a while and have coughed sufficient amounts.)
Me: Mumble mumble please.
Customer: *hands over note of some ridiculously large amount*
Me: Thank youu. Here's mumble mumble mumble.

I should probably work on the mumbling.

On another note, indecisive customers are the bane of my existence- especially those that demand their money back after touching all the bread I've carefully packaged for them because they decide it's too "crunchy".
HOW ELSE DO YOU EXPECT FRESH BREAD TO BE?!

And another thing, people are so strange. Example #32758: Every single middle aged woman who comes into the bakery on a Saturday morning walks in with a full face of makeup but then decides to wear a tracksuit with it. It's like they put so much effort into their faces (and I applaud them, because most of them seem to know how to make themselves look very nicely made up) that when they got to the rest of their bodies, they just decided to give up. Why on earth do people do this wearing of yucky clothes in public?
I suppose it doesn't matter. And I'm probably somehow being all anti feminist and completely materialistic here by complaining about this, but I don't care! Don't tell me things like this aren't important! What if you ran into Prince William? Oscar Wilde? JESUS?
Anyway, I'm sorry. But jeans. You can wear jeans and I won't complain at all. You can even wear the tracksuit jumper with the jeans.

Another thing is I'm thinking about quitting my job and applying at the cafe just up the road. Or do those things but in reverse order. Change is scary though- the bakery's all I've ever known.



FORWARD MARCH!

I've adopted a green grasshopper.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jnvgq8STMGM
Ophelia has a sassy gay friend, and he thinks: "There is something rotten in the state of Denmark. AND IT'S HIS PISS POOR ATTITUDE."
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SCVc5TaPpe8
Schwarzenegger is HAMLET- "Hamlet is taking out the trash" ohhh yeah. "To be, or not to be...Not to be." *explosions*

I've been thinking about maybe studying overseas after graduation (that is, if I make it that far), even for only a semester or two. Melbourne and its universities are incredible, and I love the city itself, but how wonderfully rejuvenating an experience it would be to just leave and stay left. I was thinking maybe England (AH England, that would just be absolutely amazing) or I think I heard of this international university in Holland when I was in Indonesia. Its primary language is English, but people of all nationalities attend and it'd surely be like one big party of multiculturalism and a blur of almost nonsensical communication through vast seas of language. I'll have to do more research into it.

I get to leave early tomorrow! Hooray! Except I won't be doing anything with my life, except maybe watching the VCE Theater Studies Class at St Kevins perform Animal Farm. I'd like to think my mother wasn't instilling false hope in me when she told me that's how I'd be spending my Friday evening.

Oh, and a few nights ago a grasshopper hopped its way into my room, and even though I've left the window open ever since, it still hasn't left. I guess that makes us friends? I'm naming it Gregory, as in Rasputin, of course!

Most of the time, I have no idea what day it actually is until someone tells me.

And it sucks that tomorrow is apparently Wednesday. I have this theory that I use to justify my absolute failure in the areas of science and maths and that is that I read things differently to other people and so my interpretation is generally completely off in subjects in which only one answer can be right. In subjects where you can go off topic and flourish along tangents this isn't perhaps a bad thing, but ah dear. Yes, I am full of crap.
We had parent teacher interviews today. I remember from A Cinderella Story (yes, the one when Hilary Duff was still kind of relevant to our generation, and Chad Michael Murray actually wasn't half bad looking. Oh shush, no judgements) one of the step sisters complained that her teachers would wonder to themselves why she sounded smart on paper, and not smart...not on paper, and I think that my situation isn't so different, except for the fact that while she got Cinderella to do hers, I get my little gnome friends I keep chained up in the attic to do mine. Sometimes the stuff that comes out of my mouth is so stupid and bimbo-y it's ridiculous. I thought that by the time I was 17 (ancient!) I would at the very least, sound intelligent and be able to casually throw sarcastic comments around like no monkey's business.
Is that even a saying?
Oops, I did it again. I played with your heart, got lost in the game. Oh baby baby oops you think I'm in looooove, that I'm sent from aboooove. I'm not. That. Innocent.
Britney. Oh Britney. Why did you have to go crazy just when I fell in love with your sparkly goodness?
So, again, there is no point to this post and I'm quite sorry, but not enough to actually apologise. Ahaha, how UNUSUAL of me. Goodness, I suck at life and I blame this entirely on the lack of projectness in my life. I keep going on about this but I'm too Hamlety to act! Ah, the perils of being a man of reason in an age of honour, where time is out of joint as we ponder the crisis of intellectual scepticism versus belief in the divine- inescapable mortality! Sympathy with death! No, I beg you sir, my favour lies in abundant life. A zest for life, if you will.
But, to what extent is an individual free? How far do we bend to society's unspoken conduct; over our own desires, our own primal instincts, our dionysian complex? Aduh. I can generally tolerate people of all kinds. (When I say tolerate, I mean hold back bitchy remarks or even facial expressions that may indicate anything other than a state of perfect pleasantness) But the one thing I've found that annoys the freaking hell out of my "lovely, polite" (Mr Williams quote) demure is anyone who plays the victim. There's certainly irony in this too, though, because I find myself frequently acting as the victim, I think. I try not to complain too much or appear too heavily burdened with the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune but maybe I do, and if so, I sincerely apologise to all those in a 10km radius of me right this second. But basically, I'm just over feeling like the bad guy when really, it's not even my fault. Danke to the person who pointed that out so explicitly.
Whew. Essej lit vomit over with.
You know what's hilarious? Mrs Probst smiling at you because you did good. HILARIOUSLY TERRIFYING.
Do you like the elephant picture? I like it. I think it is nice.

Why is it that every time I'm with you now

I don't feel joy, but a sense of guilt?

It's a purple and yellow day.

I'm really not a fan of leather shorts. Like, really? Not even fake leather ones. Aren't they disgusting? Aren't they something that belong in the past? Don't go dragging tacky trends like that out again.
I mean, seriously?
I'd like new shoes. Fun shoes. Shoes that will make me feel purposeful. Maybe high heels of some description. Or, what do you call those ones? Those pointy flat ones that everyone 'indie' seems to be wearing...brogues. Yes. Black shiny brogues are what I crave. Nice shoes are purty.
I need something to do. Something fun. Let's do something fun. Anyone? Fun? Please? Some alcohol perhaps?
I think my life would be complete if I could hug someone of the opposite gender right now. I'm not sure why it's gender specific. But it is, okay? I'm sorry.
Running. I'm going running tomorrow. I will.

I'M SORRY I'M NOT CALLED EMILY AND I CAN'T MAKE YOU HAPPY.

I ruined everything. Again. How am I so socially inept? How is it possible that I could be so absolutely horrible and walk- no, not walk- stomp all over another person's feelings they so trustingly laid at my feet? I feel. Confused. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry and I hate that your mood suddenly turned sour because of me- this wasn't supposed to happen.
I don't understand. But it's not fair to claim confusion, to blame that because I am the one to blame and I'm so incredibly sorry.
I hope you're okay. My conscience is rather painful.