Housesitting always causes me to long for my own place. Obviously because, for a brief moment, a house becomes my own. For a few short days, I’m completely alone. I can fully relax. All is right with the world. I realize that were this house actually mine, I would probably be stressing about which bills to pay for and all the things that need repair. But I still consider myself a kid and I enjoy the fact that I don’t have to concern myself with those things… yet. Sure, money is important and I need more of it–that’s a given. But gas, heat, electric, utilities, whatnot? I’m not gonna even pretend I care about that stuff. Whenever I housesit, I pretend to be a mulit-millionaire who has her own personal accountant (trustworthy and dedicated to me) who takes care of all my expenses. Far-fetched, yes, but like I said before–I’m just a kid!
Class elections are today. Running for Vice President–Martin Smith (I don’t know his real name off the top of my head and it honestly doesn’t matter all too much). His booth is set up just outside Cascadia‘s doors. “Vote SMITH for Vice President!” He has candy and cool stickers set out. I always thought elections would go better if, instead of candy, they laid out silver money, and instead of stickers, gave paper bills. What’s that you say? Bribery?? Well, duh! Of course it’s bribery. And what would you call the candy and stickers? Anyhow, that’s beside the point. So Smith’s booth is all decked out in cool junk, but where is Smith? Oh… I see him… He’s about thirty feet down the sidewalk, leaning against the building, backed turned against everyone, smoking a cigarette… That’s how you win the people, man. That’s how you get… the votes.
Psychology is a fascinating course and I have to get back to it. Enjoy this lack-of-any-real-theme blog.