Where’s the Stapler.

Just a pause after finishing a paper.  I’m done.  But there’s studying now, for the Anthro class.  I hate that class.  I don’t know if anyone likes it or enjoys what he talks about and how he brags about his digs and all the discoveries and the everything everything everything he’s done and seen.  If he’s so exponentially accomplished with what he does, why is he teaching?  Why isn’t he still “out there” as he says.

I open a beer, look at the time, 11:43PM.  And don’t care.  I need this.  I deserve this.  I’m a student.  Before finals.  And I’m buried.  So I stop again, sip, and let it all go, let the assignments fly away to some afterward ditch.