Clean Slate

I deleted his number.

I can't do this anymore. I really just can't. I can't let this boy invade my thoughts every thirty seconds. I can't let this boy distract me from work. I can't let this boy get in the way of my life. I just cant.

This is the end of the Russian chapter.

I am feeling better. Back on track with the liquids...and heading out to Oxbridge this weekend. I need a break.

Speaking of which, I think my professor actually likes me now. At least he respects me that much more...

when the entire class had plans of taking super hard courses this term, only a few of us actually followed through...me included. My dissertation topic combined with a tough schedule apparently has shed new light on my intellect.

Clearly, the formula is quite simple: getting your prof's respect requires one to dig their own graves.

Shovel anyone?

Overall, I'm in better spirits. Discarded deadweights in my life and leaving room for better things to come.

Belle