The history paper from hell is finished. It’s ugly, I’m not proud of it, but I’m so sick of fucking with it I don’t even care. It should get at least a C, and my other grades should pull me up to a B.
Now I’m going to go play World of Warcraft.
I’ve been sitting here on the couch, working on my research paper, for an hour or so.
Duchess has spent the entire time stretched out on the floor, dozing in the kind of comfort that only a cat can achieve.
A few minutes ago, she suddenly woke up, stretched, and ambled over to the window. I thought she was going to go check out the wildlife and see if there were any birds.
But no, she didn’t take up her normal bird-watching stance. For bird-watching she sits directly in front of the window, where she gets a maximum angle on the outside view. Now, she’s sitting off to the side of the window, and looking specifically up the street.
I glanced up at the clock, and then I understood.
It’s about time for The Director to get home. She’s waiting for her boy.
I’ve been doing research for a history paper, which is due at the end of the month.
I came across one of those sites where you can buy research papers. My search had turned it up because they had a paper on my topic, all ready to go. They offered the first couple of paragraphs as a sample to entice me.
“Their paper was awful,” I told Alpha Geek later. “I’d be ashamed to put my name on it. Why would anyone buy an awful paper?”
Rational as always, he pointed out: “If you’re someone who has to buy a paper, maybe it has to be awful so the teacher will believe your sorry ass actually wrote it.”