A quest to make sense of it all. Or a sense to make a quest of it all.

Wednesday, February 01, 2012

Pep talk.

*this evening, approximately 6:10, in the church parking lot*

Brett: What now? You wanna hang?

Me: Yeah. But I've got a lot of homework.

Brett: That's cool.

Me: ....I think I'm going to drop a course.

Brett: What??

Me: Dude, I've got some kind of class five nights a week. I'm almost having to schedule brushing my teeth.

Brett: We mostly just hung out and wasted time this weekend.

Me: I know! I could have been studying. But I need some play time, too. I need that down time.

Brett: You could manage your time better and still have down time.

Me: Wait a second. Are you...are you disappointed in me?

Brett: Yeah.

Me: *stunned fury*

Brett: Relax. I just think you're a little overwhelmed and you don't need to be. You've totally got this. You're smart enough. You're organized. We just need to make a little better use of our hang time together.

Me: So if you're sitting there watching tv and I've got my nose up my laptop and I'm barely giving you any attention, you won't be offended?

Brett: Hell, no.

Me: Really?

Brett: Really. There's no reason you can't be productive at the same time you're with me. Has it been a problem when I've brought work over to your place and knocked it out while you're doing your stuff?

Me: ...No.

Brett: Ok, then.

Me: Ok.

Brett: Just think about it.

Me: I don't need to. I'm keeping the class.

*epic, can't-breathe hug wherein my toes left the ground for a minute*

Not dropping any classes.
And not missing out on any sweetness, either.

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