Hello. Welcome to my website. It started while I was in Europe for a semester, and I've kept it up since then. I'm now at the University of Chicago Law School, living in Hyde Park, and the story continues. If you want to say hi or visit me, email cfloyd at uchicago dot edu.
"Life is nothing if not the sum of your anecdotes." -Scotty The Body, on storytelling "But it ain't that bad, man. Just figure out the system before the system figures out you." -T. Matthew Smith, on the 1L year "The beer just doesn't taste as good when you're not drinking it with your buddies." -Anon., on being away from good friends "Somebody has to pay the rent around here. Why the hell not us?" -Cotton, on studying for exams
4/14/2004
I've got a new thing going these days. Well, it's not new, it's old. But it's new like that shirt you got in 1998 from Grandma that went out of style in 1993 and is old enough that Gap and J.Crew decide it's back in style and then you run out of laundry and wear it to school and the gay guys and trendy girls are like, "Nice shirt man! That's really happening. Is it new?"
My new thing? I'm getting up in the morning again. I know, I know. It won't last. It can't last. It's like the time after the free month at the gym that you secretly know you can't afford and won't use anyway. But you know what? That's what the cynics said about the OC, and that's going strong for almost a year now! And listen, if anybody talks to Mischa, tell her it's okay and she should call me and we can figure it out. I'm not mad at her anymore.
Right, so getting up early. One thing above all has made this possible: a spare sheet. I have lots of windows in my bedroom. Windows are good, right? They let in fresh air and happy sunshine! WRONG! They let in evil street lumination and nasty sunrises. My spare sheet has come into play pinned across my windows. The bedroom is now a blackbox of thick, drowse-inducing darkness. PRAISE ALLAH! I CAN SLEEP NOW! Who knew light kept you from sleeping well? This is astounding. Truly revolutionary.
My alarm is set to 7am. I get out of bed creaking and bitching and put on my old-man pajama bottoms and dirty white T. The coffee brewed at 6:50, so I grumble my way into the kitchen, fill my cup and read online the good news about world peace breaking out and whatnot. After the first cup the creaking, bitching and grumbling subsides and I cook breakfast. What, pray telleth, doth Charles create? Listen closely, because this is clutch... OATMEAL. Yes, brothers and sisters, I have seen the light, oatmeal is the way and the truth sayeth the Lord. I repent of Nutri-grain and bagel-bites and insta-powder. I embrace the fiber! And I scramble eggs. And use Tobasco.
This has been going for like a week and a half now. It's awesome. I can screw around for a solid 90 minutes before I have to worry about school. But wait, Charlie, you say... the morning isn't possibly finished yet... what about... bathing? Listen to me true believers and infidels alike: I don't need a morning shower anymore. I BUZZED MY HEAD! Everyone who knows what time it is knows that the true reason for a morning shower is to get your hair wet so that you can comb it and not have pillow-head. But I don't have hair anymore. I keep it that way. And for one reason and for one reason alone: to escape the tyrany of the morning shower. Don't worry, I still cleanse myself. I just do it after I work out in the afternoon. It's better that way. Trust me.
Gotta read Torts now. Next up: my dalliance with internet radio, as well as a new obsession: FRIENDSTER.
