My morning felt like I had been listening to bob Dylan for days. it means I am much more tired than I thought.
I had school at 6:05, I had to wake up at 4:30 get dressed run to the subway, throw cab money at the taxi drivers face and run to class. Now I’m at Bellas Artes waiting for my study partner. I’m still kind of lost as to why i’m at an art museum of cultural “disagreements” murals by Diego Rivera when I’m in a quantum chemistry class.
I’ve been wirting essays of pure and applied mathematics… Cant wait to read some hardy’s apology for being a mathematician (this a joke no one will understand).
how does a catholic superstitious girl who could bairly pass geometry in 11th grade get to making theorys?….
