Get Up With The Get Down Or Get Down

I have never eaten so much ice cream as I have in the past week. What began as the innocent purchase of a 6-Pack of Ice Cream Sandwiches has snowballed (or should I say ice cream balled) into a slew of socials and Neapolitan Nightmares. Ice Cream isn't powerful. That's why it melts. It is too weak! At least that's what I thought before the week began.

Tuesday 11:30 am 

Class gives a much warranted break from regularly scheduled activities. The break probably isn't that oriented, but it is to me. I am disinterested in school and sort of a bitch as a result. No complaint is too small. "That class sucks. The teacher wears too much green." 

I have a three hour class that is vital to graduation. I spend the entire time thinking about what food I should eat for lunch. I can feel my brain getting smarter the whole while. I consider a Little Caesar's Pizza, Hamburger Helper, and a home made Shrimp Salad Sandwich. I know I'll only have an hour to eat so I'll have to hustle. I decide on a simple breakfast inspired by a picture in my French Textbook. Fried Eggs and Tomato in Garlic. The French word for garlic is l'ail. 

I pick up the ingredients from a local Mexican Grocery store. 

This post isn't going anywhere. My writing has been shitty for weeks. I'll owe 75k in loans, I can't stop being mean, and the NBA is the most important thing in my life. My life is in flux at best and terribly misguided at worst, and I'm analyzing my ice cream habit. I don't feel this. 

These words don't need to be said. 

Something must be wrong with me. 

I'm eating frozen cookie dough because we're out of ice cream.