Maybe my boyfriend was abducted by aliens: a lesson on physical science by Veronica Mars

Well I'm not sure, but I might be realizing my worst fears. I'm caring about my grades.
I am still not that person in class with the attitude I abhor: "Will this be on the test?" Bleh, what a waste of my time. I refuse to be dictated by any test. Maybe the intellectual inside of me is compromising and finally supporting the act of shoving my brain through the brick wall of academia.
I've already passed a few landmarks for myself: I've woken up early enough to eat breakfast sitting down in my apartment before I had to go anywhere THREE TIMES IN A ROW. I was even awake enough to handle some Aretha Franklin this morning.
And I've been keeping my New Years resolution of flossing.
I slightly feel amazing.
But I better be going dancing tomorrow night otherwise I'm going to feel like a disgusting over-achiever. Part of me really supports my chronic running to class late with a bagel, late night window shopping online because I can't focus, and those weeks where I just decide that homework isn't important. Why do I have to improve myself to get a scholarship? If only France wouldn't insist I take classes this spring.
Last semester I learned some invaluable things not doing homework. For instance I finally figured out that it's Pre-Raphaelite paintings that I've been loving. And some OLD Alanis Morsette lyrics are ingenious. I've also discovered the delicious combination of radishes and avacados through my perusal of cooking blogs.
Sigh.
Oh well, I'm fascinated by conflict. Bring it on brick wall, I'll take you down.
Hahahaha....I'm almost clever.