Part of where I’m going is knowing where I’m coming from

It’s here.

Summer.

I have plans. Not majorly ambitious “SIX FLAGS!! BEACH!!! GET TANNED!” type of plans, but real ones. I’m going to work on getting my life in order. Planning. I have plans to make plans. A little silly, I know, but I’m rather excited. I want to be productive. I was doing so well in the past month, what with my excessive amount of 10-page papers, and I don’t want to stop.

I’m planning to build. My life, my career, my future. Make money, because goodness knows I don’t have any at the moment and I have no idea yet how I can afford living here in Champaign this summer but I’ll find a way. I have to.

It’s a little weird, being on this campus and having absolutely zero academic responsibilities to think about. I dropped my Session I summer class because A) being registered for 6 hours is ridiculously expensive compared to 3, and B) waking up at 9 every morning (while hungover, no less) and having to trek across campus is no fun.

I’m also hoping for a lot more nights like these:

I had a lot more, coherent things I wanted to say and write about but time’s a-ticking and I’ve got a summer to tackle.

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