March Madness

I have potentially the craziest month of my life ahead of me. Though the euphoria of being next year’s The Point director has yet to wear off, the responsibilities are starting to kick in, therefore I am starting to freak out… just a little.

Training, hiring, interviews, meetings, ideas, planning – the list goes on, and that’s just my director responsibilities! Tri-Du just so happens to fall the day before I have a 10-pager due. Then next week is packed with birthdays and parties, and more meetings. Then the week after that is Storm, and more birthdays. Then the next week, 2 term papers due, full weekend of interviews, 1 final draft of screenplay due, and one creative writing portfolio due, one AMS Block Party, and finally the REC Spring Formal. I haven’t even thought about exams yet.

Usually this kind of work doesn’t really bother me. I like being busy and the stress motivated me to get stuff done – but that’s when I know what I am doing.

And all in the midst of this is my birthday. I feel like I should have written “birthday” in subscript because it will most likely become lost between days in the library or REC office and nights sleeping.

There are really only two things – no three things – I want for my birthday. 1. I want to enjoy it with my best friends – the ones who make me feel warm and fuzzy. 2. I want cake. 3. I want some sort of surprise. Seriously, I love surprises. Any kind of surprise. Pop out from behind a door. Play peek-a-boo. Show up at my house with a limo and drive me to school? Okay, maybe that last one is a bit unrealistic.

A girl can dream.

So all in all, I am already starting to forget things I don’t usually forget, like Seth Rogan’s name. How did I forget that? If I forget your name in the next month, please don’t take offence, I tend to forget these sort of details when my brain gets swollen.

If I say something bitchy, I probably meant it as a joke, and just didn’t have the energy to sensor myself.

If I randomly start crying in your face, just try and make me laugh. I’ll love you forever.

If you hear me screaming into a pillow, come scream with me.

If I’m doing something wrong, please wait until April 7th to tell me.

Thank you very much.

(Please don’t forget the surprise.)


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