Ever heard the Jawbreaker song entitled 'Pack It Up"? Well, that's exactly what I'm getting ready to do. I'm not going anywhere that would be considered cool though. I'm going to a place that has hillbillies in place of the yuppies. God I hate the yuppies. I don't like the billies either, but at least they don't pretend to be superior greedy androids with caffeine and burbury addictions. I'm escaping the crowdedness of the city. My theory is that humans weren't meant to live 2 feet from another...in every direction! I feel like a fucking whack-a-mole. The whack is my job. I'll be escaping that as well. I just can't do it anymore. You can only take the degrading feel of this sort of work to heart so many hundred-thousand times before you finally hit the wall. (Thinking of a Figs song now.)
Oddly enough, I'm going to the place I strove to get away from so many times. Champaign-Urbana IL. Time to go back to school for the 7th time. I may as well put those seventy-something credit hours to use. I heard somewhere that if you decide to become a teacher, the gov't will forgive your student loans. I wonder if that's true. I do have that corduroy jacket with the leather patches on the elbows. And a pipe. I think I could learn some youngsters a li'l somethin' somethin'.