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I had a long day. I forgot how draining it is to sit at a desk and work. I enjoyed it, though. I then went to my writing class. Tonight, Christopher Hitchens came to lecture on Orwell. I guess the lecture was fine, but I soon became distracted by an individual who I think I've mentioned before. I call him Poindexter. In my struggle to temper my agitation toward his incessant narcissism, I had to write about him as if he were a character in a fiction novel. It goes a little something like this:He has just the right timbre in his voice to signal to the masses that he feels justified in his position in masculinity. The conservative nature is the most audible message his countenance reveals. His light blue and white vertically striped oxford shirt is tucked neatly into his cuffed navy blue slacks, the two blues so at odds with one another. The tan socks stand out of his soft black leather shoes, clashing with the rest of his garb. The tuft of curly hair sits in a pubic manner on top of his head, which contains a pinkish, cleansly shaven, clammy face. his brown beady eyes peer through a rather contemporary pair of glasses. The chap's mouth rests at the bottom of a short valley on his face, a valley maintained by the hills that form his long nose and pointy chin..... You get the picture. Not good writing at all, but I figured since I was in a writing class, I should engage myself in some in order to get through. He is a nuisance to have and I think that the teacher has caught on. When he talks, she looks around the room at the rest of us. He truly believes the class is for him only. Unfortunately, there are 12 weeks left during which time I have to endure his arrogance. I went to this place called Veg City Diner after class with some friends. Pretty interesting. I had a $2 bowl of chocolate ice cream. I've just come home to an empty house and a floor that needs mopping. I think I may get to that now.