Day Fifty-Eight of College: Much Ado About Animals

Today...


I skipped journalism class. Mostly because I just hate journalism. But also because I needed to write papers for my Music History class. And yes, you read that right. Papers. As in the plural. One paper wasn't good enough, no. I've got to write two. 


Speaking of two, that's what time I was up to in the morning last night (or is it morning? I can never be sure). Hardly an uncommon thing for a college student to be sleeping at unusual and unhealthy hour, I know. But, seriously, I'm wicked tired. And because I've got those Music History papers to finish, I assure you that I will be up at least that late tonight. 


Homework is the devil. I'm forty-three percent certain. 


Moving on to other things...my fish died today. It was depressing and awful and I cried over his lifeless little fishy corpse. And then I flushed him. It was all very sad. 


May you rest in peace Captain Morgan. 


I'm thinking that I should get a boa constrictor next. I could name him Winston and we would have the best of times together! But...boa constrictors are notoriously picky eaters. According to this website that I saw this one time, they only eat pine cones, extra virgin (like me!) olive oil, partially-frozen deer meat and small children. And while I have small children in no short supply...the rest would be difficult to obtain. 


Damn. All these plans for naught. 


Also, Pope John (who I recently found out is a girl turtle, not a boy turtle) would probably be jealous. He/She was already jealous or my fish...I suspect a poisoning plot perhaps (oh, allitteration!). But, no seriously, now that I've discovered that Pope John Paul is a Popess should I rename him/her? Should he/she now be Popess Jean Penelope?


Nah...that's idiotic. He/She should remain Pope John Paul. All the coolest girls have boy names anyway. Like...Charli (my sister) and DANielle (that's me). So...PJP he/she shall remain. 


I still feel weird about the whole thing. Seriously. It feels like my turtle got a sex-change. I failed as a mother. 


And that seems like a good place to stop. 


Danielle Out.