Hey guys, guess what?
I found a graduation picture I actually look good in!
Oh, and I graduated, I guess.
But I had to start grad school last Tuesday, and it’s hard as dicks.
Like, my brain is pure mush right now.
Now don’t let that scare you, little babies who have to go off to graduate school in the near (or not-too-near) future; I’m taking condensed courses on things like metadata and curation and all sorts of stuff that won’t be terribly applicable as a grown-up. I’m sure you’ll be fine.
So in the midst of all this exhaustion and stress and information resource packages, to whom shall I turn to for comfort but that master of positivity and charm, Sir Jonathan of Greenington?
Last week we enjoyed a pretty appalling chapter about Gus’ cancer doing . . . something, and how our main characters are just the worst people ever. It was a laugh riot.
This chapter is pretty depressing, because Gus is all cancer-y and not totally hateful, and it’s just . . . well . . .
I went over to his house about noon, after he had eaten and puked up breakfast. He met me at the door in his wheelchair, no longer the muscular, gorgeous boy who stared at me at Support Group, but still half smiling, still smoking his unlit cigarette, his blue eyes bright and alive.
So let’s get started!