Where can a girl get a drink at 10 AM?

I hate to start talking about politics again, but I have to. I saw parts of the concession speech as well as the Bush speech in class this morning. Kerry's speech was eloquent as usual -- flawlessly executed, and obviously well-rehearsed. Bush, obviously hadn't memorized the thing and was stuttering in parts as usual. Geez. There was also some sort of blooper thing on MSNBC where funny bits from each campaigns were shown. Politicians are funny.

I'm glad we get so much exposure to politics in class, but the instructor is so clearly biased, it's not funny at all. He's an obvious liberal, and constantly "teaches" things that have an obvious liberal twist. Now, I'm no fan of Bush, but I want a good well-rounded education -- not an instructor who's going to teach us of his political view point and pass it off as being neutral. I am so angered everytime he makes such a comment -- he goes out of his way to disprove that there is a liberal bias in the media, and that Ann Coulter is wrong. I just roll my eyes and pray that the hour passes quickly and painlessly.

In other personal news: I can't write a novel. It's just too hard, and I'm not meant to write a novel, and I can't even write a crappy one. I sat there for about half an hour for some inspiration to strike, and NOTHING. I'm trying to write about things that are familiar to me -- being woman, being a twenty-something, being a student, etc. But obviously I really don't know anything about being me. Fourth day into the month, and I have 400 words. Wow. 46000 words more to go! I don't think I'll ever have a novel -- a short story at best, and even that won't be any good. I'm beginning to feel that I was not meant to write fiction. Either that, or I've been spending too much living inside a box that I can't think outside of that box.

Living life in the real world is like living in a cube. (I thought of this while watching the Simpsons last night, when Homer goes 3D in one of their Treehouse of Horror episodes.) You have to meet all the corners and stay within bounds to survive. You have to conform. Do the 9-5 or 10-7 (in my case) and get a degree. You have to make money and write checks to pay the bills, and never spend over your budget. You have to eat a certain amount and physically move a certain amount and watch some TV and etc. You have to live like you're programmed! And I've been doing that for so long, all creativity is drained out from me. When was the last time I drew something? Last time I painted (I am the most horrible painter, by the way)? When was the last time I danced in my room half-naked and freaked out my cat? I've cast out creativity from my life and I'll never write my crappy novel. November isn't really an inspiring month. It seems like a bad idea to procrastinate writing 50000 words -- it's not like I can write that many words over ThanksGiving! Quitting promptly might be the most gracious way to exit. I don't know. I mean, I've got a great working title (secret for now) and a great opening.

Of course I'm not feeling creative. How can one feel creative when a statistic exam looms next week, as well as a political science exam, and the nursing department's letter next week? I've got too much on my plate. I can't take 15 units of school and work 35 hours a week and write a novel. It's just not possible. One classmate asked (when I told her I work nearly full time and take 15 units), "so when do you sleep?" And I thought about it, and it was weird. I'm sleepy almost all the time, and yawning throughout the day. Sure I spend a good chunk of hours sleeping, but am I ever rested? I'm always so tense.

I've got this knot in my shoulders that I've had for years now. They just don't go away. I'm always standing on my toes, because I have to be on standby. It's like... like I'm juggling, and every so often, someone throws in another ball for me to juggle, and if I miss a beat, I'll drop everything. I guess you could say that I began juggling when I turned 18, and each year I get another ball added in to my juggling act. There's one ball I've managed to drop and let go (for the sake of preserving all else in my life) and that's probably dating. When was the last time I had a boyfriend? It's a shame that I can keep a blog longer than I can keep any man. Not that this fact says anything about me, just that it's not a time for romance. Romance needs time. I don't have much time. I'M BUSY.

I'll admit it. I'm busy. How much time are you supposed to devote to "fun/leisure" activities? I have no time for fun/leisure, so I make school my "fun/leisure" activity. That's how bad the situation is. And the little time I have left, I spend watching DVD's on my couch, and perhaps that is my only time "off."

This morning, I gave myself the dreaded pep talk. It's a heightened level of pep talk, kind of like a drill sargent's speech, actually. I woke up late -- hence I was late for class. While sitting in the car, I yelled at myself that if I can't manage to make it on time to an 8:30 AM class (which isn't even that early!) then I can't do crap in life. I've already accepted the fact that my life is full of adversaries and rough terrains. The secondary steps to follow is that if I understand the turmoils of my life and accept it, and if I still want to overcome all of it to achieve greatness, I'm going to have to do more work and work harder. And I haven't quite gotten to that step yet, I guess.

I need to get up earlier. I need to exercise more (I've got a poochie belly and I'm exercising about once every two months and it's taking a toll on my health) and read more. I mean, some people get up at 5 AM, run two, three miles, read the paper and have breakfast and still make it to work on time. Me? I roll off my bed much later than 5AM (I wake up late -- at an hour almost embarrassing to reveal) and barely wipe off the eye-crusties and brush my teeth before heading out the door to work. I read the paper at the end of the day, and that's something I was taught to be useless. By the end of the day, so much has already happened and yesterday's news are totally worthless. That's my father's view, anyway, and I've come to accept it. There's reason why the paper comes so early in the morning and not at 3 in the afternoon through the post man.

So I yelled at myself. Either expect to work harder and be tougher (i.e. not give into pressing that snooze button) or be content with the current status quo of my life (i.e. the status of being absolutely nothing). I'm not about to opt for the latter. So "work harder" it is.

After that pep talk, I'm going to need a drink. I don't care if it's before noon. Man, I can't believe I have to step into statistics class in 10 minutes. You don't suppose that the school has a full-service bar, do you? I could really go for a bloody mary, with an extra dash of Tobasco and an extra shot of vodka. (Homer Simpson impersonation) Mmmmmm~~~ numbing myself with alcohol~~~~ Mmmmm~~~