Next order of business: Animal Crossing. We (nyxdae, hypertechie, and I) borrowed John's game, moved into his town on Sunday night as Lenakaty, and proceeded to be boggled. We can't decide whether we love or hate this game (though our attitude towards it has improved muchly since the store stopped working us, being closed, and having its silly Raffle day. We could actually get rid of the stuff we picked up ... prior to this point we'd been hiding everything in bushes). I am prone to sending letters consisting something like, "You are the epitome of evil. I hope you and your minions suffer painful deaths" to people named "Cupcake," or something similar. This is an act for which I am given gifts.
"AAAAAAAAAAAUGHHHH, now they're all in AEROBICS! I HATE THIS WORLD!" - nyxdae
Oooh, we have a shovel! Using this tool of the trade to plant trees, we've become a proverbial Johnny Appleseed, except we also invest in peaches and oranges. Our house, far too small for the roughly 140,000 bells we owe, is full of knick-knacks which have nothing to do with our trade. Spaceman Sam cooks for us while we run inane errands and wish death upon people who want us to find Bob.
Next order of business: sculpture. When I signed up for the sculpture class, I had assumed that I would be working with clay ... however, we are going to be woodworking, welding, and other assorted high-hazard escapades. If I leave this year with one less hand than I started with, you'll know what the cause is without having to ask. I've been working up some ideas ... I hope that this course will give me added confidence with my materials ... or at least prove that I am not as accident-prone as my version of life would have it. Been collecting broken glass.
Next order of business: tutoring. I am not doing it, mostly due to time and the fact that I already have a boss who loves me and who is flexible on scheduling. I was vastly amused that faculty recommended me to be a tutor for the "Physiology of Space" course, mostly because I remembered how my high school guidance counselor told me that no college would accept me since I had only two years in math and a forced three in science. (Also, the course is pretty darn easy. If you just dot your i's and cross your t's as you do the work assigned, no tutor should be necessary. Cliche chosen intentionally to emphasize dullness of that class.)
Final order of business: Anne, do not forget that you have a meeting tonight.