Shaun Lewis: the Man, the Myth, the Legend

Today has been an odd day.

I woke up early today. I haven’t woken up early since 1988. It’s actually a weird feeling to be up early, because everyone is still asleep and you feel in control of them. You decide the fate of their attempt at rest. If only I had a foghorn…

After waking up early, I didn’t do anything. I just kind of laid in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Apparently there are 124 different dark spots within a 3-foot radius of my head. That’s a close approximation, of course… one or two of them could have been remnants of cobwebs.

When I finally did roll out of bed, I had a mere 15 minutes to get ready for my first class. I accomplished this feat with time to spare, luckily.

I’m sad to report my right glove is MIA, assumed POW under Victor Charlie. Actually, I am not sure if I lost it, or if it is underneath my bed. Naturally, there is always the possibility of a North Vietnamese outpost there. Whatever happened to that glove, I can definitely say my right hand has been cold most of the day. I think the hand is in shock of its terrible loss. Perhaps a little counseling and electric shock will help it regain control over its emotions. Damn Vietnamese Army…

After class, I watched 4 episodes of The Simpsons. Man… I am happy. That alone is like Utopia for me.

I am really starting to not look forward towards my Medieval History exam. 2 essays… each 3 pages long… with one hour to do this… God hates History majors.

On another note, I feel like a Good Samaritan today. I gave 47 cents to the guy who plays the banjo uptown. I expected a thank you for helping him pay this month’s rent, all I got was a sucky song and some really weird poetry. Man, it sucks being a good person. Everyday I’m thinking of crossing over to the dark side of the religious underbelly… Catholicism.

Hmmm… judging from everything I wrote my day wasn’t odd, just boring. Blast.