Certainly, it doesn't mean a day of rest. For me, my day of rest was Saturday... as evidenced by the fact that I napped from 5:30-7:30, and then watched TV until 1... and then slept in until 10:30 this morning. Saturday is my "day of play". And Sunday, I hit the books again. (And go to Sunday Meetings for APO.)
This week looks a lot like last week...
I'm finishing up The Spanish Tragedy, by Thomas Kyd. I'm not convinced it's a tragedy, and I'm thinking of filming or writing a "Spanish Tragedy in Five Minutes" or something, because, bloody and trivial murders aside, it's really pretty funny when you break it down and summarize it. It'll be a good way to be creative AND do a review for me.
(According, to my mother, I am apparently turning my literature textbook into the bible with my little flags. Maybe my literature book IS my bible... I carry it around with me all the time as it is!)
Story time!
Thursday night, after a long day of class, studying, more class, and MORE studying, I went to work, went to Mom's for dinner (yummy salad and omelet!), and then to Barnes and Nobles for an hour or so to catch up on my history and linguistics reading. I stayed until they closed the store, and drove home in the miserable rain. By the time I got home, all I wanted to do was crash.
I parked my car and got into the elevator and there was a guy in there already holding a bunch of groceries and a dozen roses. Right before we got to my floor, he reached into his bouquet and gave me one of the roses. It was so sweet!
Thanks, Guy Who Lives on the Fourth Floor. You made my day so much better with your rose!
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