Thoughts after two cups of coffee & no motivation to write form+theory paper



1. YOU try transporting two cupcakes (one in each hand) from campus to car to apartment without completely obliterating them and getting your carseat/hands/jeans smothered in chocolate ganache. Seriously though, it’s hard. Above is an “after” picture. No “before” because I didn’t think that far ahead.

2. On the subject of cupcakes. I love cupcakes. I think they’re adorable, versatile, and delicious. I absolutely will disagree with anyone who claims “cake” is better than a cupcake. Like, they’re both comprised of the exact same thing, cupcakes are just more transportable and marketable because of their individuality. Usually these said cupcake haters are just people who hate trends. They refuse to get frozen yogurt and stick to Coldstone. They have Androids, not iPhones. Okay, I’m getting a little bit ridiculous here. Point is…don’t hate the cupcake. Do not.

3. I’m so tired and it’s getting to the point where I look like a fucking mess every time I leave my apartment because any spare minute I get, I am resting my head on a pillow. So I come into class, walk into the grocery store, what have you, with smeared eyeliner that makes me look like I’ve been punched in the face or maybe sobbing. There are maybe ten bags under my eyes. I’m usually wearing a striped sweater that’s super comfy and conveniently located on the floor by my bed so when I wake up in the morning I don’t have to shuffle around my closet. Around 4 I try to come up with some kind of caffeine supplement, so you’ll see me chugging a Red Bull or warming my palms on a Starbucks cup. This is when I get super wacky and have fast conversations with friends and professors and start planning on going to the gym later and blogging and tweeting something hilarious and caffeine-induced, and editing a poem and making dinner that involves quinoa and kale. But then I come home at 8 or 9 or 10 and I put on my sweatpants and pass out watching someone getting murdered on Game of Thrones.



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