I Could Work For Hollywood
BYU campus. Night -- around 7:30 p.m.
A girl in a dark grey coat is walking toward the library as she pulls a cell phone out of her coat pocket. She pushes a button and holds the phone to her ear. She can hear the ringing, and begins to count the rings, knowing that she won't leave a message if he doesn't pick up. He won't check it, anyway. Sprint has made that impossible for him.
A voice picks up on the other line. Instead of a customary "Hello?" or "Hey," though, she hears a teasing "NOW you call."
"I just got out of class, okay? So don't even start." was her quick response. The person on the other end seems taken aback by her tone, and tells her that she needs to change out of her cranky pants, or something to that effect.
Cranky pants. Yes, hello, I am Miss Cranky Pants.
You know things are getting bad when I accidentally snap at Art. I'd like to point out that I have NO idea where the biting tone came from; I meant it all to be light and airy and funny, as per usual, but I suppose the demons of a terribly heavy course load have begun to take their toll so that bitterness is leaking out around the edges.
Someday I'll sleep again, I promise. But not tonight. Tonight, I have a Haiku anthology to read. No, I'm not kidding.
A girl in a dark grey coat is walking toward the library as she pulls a cell phone out of her coat pocket. She pushes a button and holds the phone to her ear. She can hear the ringing, and begins to count the rings, knowing that she won't leave a message if he doesn't pick up. He won't check it, anyway. Sprint has made that impossible for him.
A voice picks up on the other line. Instead of a customary "Hello?" or "Hey," though, she hears a teasing "NOW you call."
"I just got out of class, okay? So don't even start." was her quick response. The person on the other end seems taken aback by her tone, and tells her that she needs to change out of her cranky pants, or something to that effect.
Cranky pants. Yes, hello, I am Miss Cranky Pants.
You know things are getting bad when I accidentally snap at Art. I'd like to point out that I have NO idea where the biting tone came from; I meant it all to be light and airy and funny, as per usual, but I suppose the demons of a terribly heavy course load have begun to take their toll so that bitterness is leaking out around the edges.
Someday I'll sleep again, I promise. But not tonight. Tonight, I have a Haiku anthology to read. No, I'm not kidding.
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National Geografic magazine's cover story for Feburary is "LOVE : The Chemical Reaction"
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