Getting r done.

Teachers come in every form, and in the mot unexpecting and lasting ways. The one  that I am currently thinking of, was a customer from Starbucks. "Wow, you have really nice hands!" "Thanks. Yeah, I'm a hand model." "Hah! I always bite my nails. I joke and say that I am a hand model." "I see there is no point to biting your nails. All one does is bite the nail bed down." "How do I stop?" "If you ever feel the need to bite, just take moments and say out loud to yourself, I will not bite my nails. I will not bite my nails." "Okay."

It's maybe 4 years later now - and I will not bite my nails.

I just finished printing off a Marilyn Frye essay, "Oppression" - so I must break away and start to read it.  It's for tomorrow's class, but I still have a lot of drawing to be done. - fuck. But not really. It will be fine,  I guess.

I have to really think about my drawing assignment. Fuck, it's due tomorrow. I'll have to text Liv - maybe I can sit with her and her roommates and draw them. Is it weird? No - business I guess. But not necessarily so. Oh I don't know anymore.

Ten hours of drawing. Maybe I'm halfway there, eh. Like, I've done 4 hours already. Wait, an hour or so yesterday drawing Shaun - I'm up to five baby!

Okay. Bye.