Stringing together symbols

I am going to smoke a cigarette.
I will walk outside the double-glass doors, and lean against the brick wall, even though I know that, most likely, spider webs will cling to my shirt after this.
I am going to puff and inhale, then exhale.
I am going to walk back inside and sit back down in my chair, and return to browsing the internet as the hustle and bustle of the Senior Sports Classic (Old People Olympics) goes on around me. Why should I be kicked out of my desk so that old people can sit there and hand out Welcome Packets to their old ass friends? Why should I deal with a stank grey-haired bitch asking me why I still live at home? I still live there because I fucking want to. I will be damned if I am going to dish out 4 to 6 hundred dollars a month just so I don't have to deal with my parents (whom never leave their room anyway, which makes me feel like I have my own 2-story house BOOYOW). This is my job. This fact is completed entirely by the presence of a Sam's Club sized TUB of Germ-X. For people so close to death, they sure fear germs.

The building is extra cold today. Xzaviar's hypothesis is that the university staff is trying their hardest to preserve the bodies of all of these old people. I think it is working. Walt Disney, here I come!

I have a huge decision to make about school. But I'm not going to make it. Because I don't want to. Try and stop me, or in this case I guess, try and make me. I don't see the difference between an English degree and having both an English and a Spanish degree! I'm going to be living in a fucking cardboard box anyway. That second degree will only clutter up the floorspace.

Fuck it. We'll do it live.