Hey, Honors Program: It's "privilege," not "privelage." Dumbasses.

So I've been pretty tired lately. For obvious reasons (a. I have very poor time management skills; b. I overbook what time I do actually allot for productivity; c. I'm just not motivated to do schoolwork most of the time because I hate my classes). This week I've pulled two all-nighters. No, I mean all nighters. And it sucks the next day. I can't focus; I just think about bed. This morning I got to work and apparently I was sleeping, while sitting up in my chair at the front desk, because Betty, one of my sweet middle-aged coworkers, walked up and started laughing. And what do you do at that point? What can you do? I smiled, said I was tired, and moved on.

And then I realized I had been having a good dream about mock trial. Can't remember what it was. But I'm going to assume it was a good omen for this weekend's tournament.


[Context for the omen comment: Last night, Steve, Bethany, and I were working on Steve's opening statements in the lounge, when Bethany announced that she had had a dream about Steve. It was supposedly an omen that our tournament was going to go well this weekend because she and Steve were going "to become one." When Steve and I took the obvious interpretation, she simply said, "The details aren't important. All that matters is that we will be one. And the team will do well."]

[Context for the title: The Honors Program actually sent out an email to every single Honors student announcing in the subject line "White privelage - Panel discussion." Yeah. No comment necessary.]

[Random: I was looking at the preceding paragraph, for editing purposes, when I thought about adding "around a thousand" to better describe what I mean by "every single Honors student," but then I actually thought about how that number isn't in any affidavit and is therefore hearsay or lack of personal knowledge. (Who lives by an affidavit? Argh.) Translation: my mind has now decided to devote itself entirely to mock trial, and therefore it blows.]