In which I prove my blog is in fact, not a plog

I'm sitting here eating my completely mediocre veggie burger with some entirely mediocre guacamole (which would be way above mediocre, had it not been such a pain in the ass to extricate from the plastic pouch), while listening to some mediocre Christmas music courtesy of Julie. Frank Sinatra himself is far from mediocre, only he had to have some kids sing with him. I don't like kids singing with gentlemen like him. That is, I would have liked it better had I been one of the girls singing, but I'm assuming at that point I would have been too young to realize that Frank Sinatra is way above mediocre looking, and I would have just been too eager to keep his imagined cooties away from myself instead of...uh...trying to...uh...wink at him. Yes. Instead of trying to wink at him.

This morning the chocolate macadamia nut coffee ran our right as I reached the little coffee spout, so I was stuck with the "neighborhood blend" coffee (code for THE NOTHING SPECIAL coffee).

I did a mediocre job of organizing the broom/trash closet at work. Frankie had mediocrely difficult math homework, which he completed while complaining about a mediocre stomach ache, which I think was faked.

That's right: I'm going for mediocrity in this post.

I got my second sosc essay back today, and I got what I expected: a B. A completely mediocre, unassuming B. I am definitely not complaining, since that's what I got on the first sosc essay, and that's what I'll be getting on the last one (I hope ). While I was composing the essay, I said to myself:

Self: You have an awesomely mediocre thesis! With an awesomely mediocrely worded essay! You are going to do an awesomely mediocre job on this essay!

Sure enough, I did not let myself down.

The reader will kindly note at this point that I am OPENLY and FREELY DISCUSSING A GRADE ON THE INTERNET. Nay, not only discussing, but posting it!

There was a time in my life when this grade would have kept me up, and I would have questioned what I had done wrong to deserve such a grade. Was it because I didn't go to church Sunday? Because I didn't give every homeless person some money on the street? Because this grade is just a sure sign I'm doomed to go to Hell?

Since coming here, I have learned to realize mediocre grades are a fact of life. I mean, I might find it in my heart to accept the occasional above-average grade the teachers throw at me when they feel sorry enough to see me wallowing in my mediocrity. Besides, it's so much more satisfying when for one millisecond a concept is elucidated for me and for one glorious second I am lifted up above the mediocre crowd into the realm of the people who ACTUALLY deserve to attend this school as opposed to being accepted off the wait-list to get in here.

Yes, I was accepted off the wait-list. If I weren't so exhausted right now, that might actually give me a minor complex.

So this is the end of my awesomely mediocre post on blog. I now lift my water bottle high: TO MEDIOCRITY! I guess if I wanted, this water bottle could be filled with some sort of alcoholic beverage, but then my night might be in danger of leaving the realm of mediocrity. In which direction, I don't know.

(Take that, Mary Kate. Not one single picture in this post.)