Walking back from the Barn and Jake walks by, turns to look at me, and says 'Just one more Monday.' Which I knew to be true and which was wierd anyway. One more Monday. One more weekend. I shouldn't be counting, I know that, and I'm trying not to but some days it's hard. I got most of the way through my big lit paper yesterday, and once I finish that I really don't have to do anything for the class anymore. The psych lab is still hovering heavily, geopol and math papers are overdue, and all I want to do is lie in the sun and not think until graduation. Which is itself getting more complicated by the instant. Amanda, for instance. This girl, who throws my life into such tumult without the least effort, is coming to a graduation that already involves my mother and my father simultaneously invading my safe CRMS space, plus my sister and my uncle, all as I'm trying to say goodbye to the place and the people and the friends who have made me happier over the past three years than I'd ever been in my life. Add Amanda to this mix and I just may collapse and die. It could be fine - she could behave herself and not do anything dramatic and not throw things into an uproar. And pigs could grow wings and fly. I love her, I do, even after all this time and everything that's happened, but... I have a hard enough time dealing with talking to her on the phone. Dealing with a week of her, especially that week, is a daunting prospect.
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