It's Thursday, it's not even 2 PM, but, to me, it's the weekend. I wish words could express just how utterly kick-ass that is.

All signs are pointing toward a relatively easy semester, which you may have guessed by the lack of classes. I have one class, however, that will dominate my time. I know I'll hate it, but I feel fortunate to have a class that is going to actually force me into writing resumes and cover letters and looking for employment. Otherwise, I can tell you, it would never get done.

I'm adapting to the new apartment and getting used to the niceties it provides that the last apartment did not. The inconveniences are also becoming more apparent. Living on the fourth floor, I see lots of stairs every time I wish to leave the apartment. The stairs are pleasant enough, as stairs go. They're covered in the red-orange-brown rectangular tiling that is most commonly found in fast food restaurant bathrooms. You know, the tiling with the smokey dark brown coloring creeping across it diagonally. Did you know that, to some of us, those faux shadows actually look like REAL shadows and they cause us to step on steps that aren't there and hurt ourselves?

Now, I hate to be one to bitch, but that doesn't stop me from bitching. I lack the depth perception that most individuals are blessed with, and stairs often confuse me. By confuse me, I mean they melt together in my mind and I perceive them to be one big, flat plane. The fact that I know there ARE stairs there leads me to attempt to hit them without tripping. But, to nobody's surprise, I have already had several near-falling experiences in that stairwell and if I don't die by the end of the semester, I will be a happy woman.

And did I mention that our toilet and shower are on opposite sides of the apartment? Weeiiirrrd.