Non-Existent

That's what I've decidied to call it.

Child is a certifiable freak...with a capital free.

Harumph

Not-Sure-What-the-Hell-To-Call-It

I’m doing kind of a number with one of my classmates, not that we’re actually in the same section. I’m not quite sure what to make of him, nor do I think he’s quite sure what to make of me, which I think I find gratifying. If this goes anywhere, it’ll be the first time I’ve grown a relationship from something more than a drunken (or caffeine-hyped) encounter in a bar (or coffee shop). I’m not sure how to proceed when a relationship develops organically. I’m just used to a false drama being imposed on it from somewhere. Of course, there’s the drama of the natural variety—the artificial pressure imposed by our schedules and our mutual baggage—but when is that ever going to be absent?

A good long weekend of shagging our brains out would be great, but I’m not keen on jeopardizing a nascent friendship for the sake of an hormonal rush, ya know?

And, with that, I must return to the world of Torts and Civil Procedure.