There's something wrong with me. I'm sure of it. I have a sneaky suspicion it's a combination of a couple things. First, I think I'm a little hormonally imbalanced. Today I brought everything to school that I didn't need and literally forgot everything that I did. Here's a list just to prove my point:
By the time I realized I forgot my paintbrushes and sketchbook I lost all motivation to even go to class which is why I sit here, chatting with you rather than painting my little heart out.
Also, I tripped on the way to class. Big.
Remember Anne Shirley's Jonah days? I think I'm experiencing one right now.
The second begins and ends with a "T" and has a "wiligh" somewhere in the middle. I just can't stop thinking about those ridiculous books. I'm guilt ridden because of the obsession and the lack of productivity. I feel my social skills regressing to those of one home schooled in a tiny broom closet from age 3. I'm considering just blazing through the rest of the series to get it over with but I have a feeling that would make matters worse. Also, I have a research paper due tomorrow morning and I haven't technically started it. Technically.