The In-Betweeners.

A quasi-familiar feeling tonight.

My laundry's halfway done—the clothes are clean but lying crumpled on the floor.

My schooling's 49 per cent—essays and assignments complete, exams yet to be written.

I'm halfway up the stairway to health, with smoothies and salads during the day, but hot dogs and re-heated cookies at night.

I'm somewhere between sobriety and bacchanalia, somewhere in the 150s of a 300-page book, stages of sleep and rest confused between the bed, the couch, and the floor.

I can't decide between super-sweet Sugar Ray and The super-sick Sonics.

The only thing I've completed is the (fully-necessary) full glass of water in front of me.

Spring's here, but summer's peeking its red-hot face 'round the corner.
Evenings are long, but too short to be considered the epic nights of an endless summer.

I'm queen for a day, but joker for the night.
The glass sits half-full, and half-empty, but either way, it's at tipping point.

Personal Ventilation System.

*Disclaimer: The following are actual quotes from actual journalists from an actual website. Proceed with caution.

Angry Journalist #3708:

I’m angry that I can’t use a three-foot apostrophe to beat seven shades fo shit out of the next wanker, who uses the professional moniker of journalist, who fails to understand singular and plural, etc…

I feel beating them with a ‘grammar’ truncheons may both teach them via negative reinforcement methods and act some for of therapy for me… and it would be fun.

That is all. Now I must go relieve myself in the editor’s coffee cup.

Angry Journalist #3444:

i dont get paid enough to pay rent

Angry Journalist #3326:

Journalism degrees are toilet paper (I have one).

Angry Journalist #KASS:

j-school ruined my life, two years later I don't know what to do and I'm scared to live in poverty. It's 3 a.m. and I'm still paying to do homework.
The weather welcomes outside and the night is nigh but the bright lights of my laptop are all of the nightlife I get to see tonight.
My scanner and printer are on the fritz that means extra work extra time extra money.
Please, j-skool, don't make me move to Regent Park...