Enough tea will make every moment better, I must remind myself.
And I have work to do, anyway. I stayed up past midnight to read syllabi and noted that one of the four week classes I registered for is actually eight, and I chose those time-slots for a reason, so I'm a bit worried that I'll have double the workload next month. I'm hoping this is just a mistake on the professor's part and that it'll change, but I guess I'll just have to deal with it if I'm the one who made the mistake.
Online registration doesn't even open until 8. Goodness.
I dreamt of maps last night. Sumeria, specifically. I feel as though I was trying to explain to someone how to pronounce Sumer, not like summer. Somehow my lips are still orange from the popsicle I ate at midnight. Curious.
As if I wasn't already obsessed with the original:
It's interesting, though, because I pay more attention to the lyrics when Jose sings it. I've never noticed them during Massive Attack. Lyrics are always secondary to me -- the voice itself is often what I pay attention to. Pitch, breath, emotion. If I want to understand lyrics, I have to read them, without exception. Otherwise it's just a jumble of words and I take single lines out of context. It's almost as if I'm listening in another language, and to be honest, if I know any of the foreign language I'm listening to, I'll try to hear every word. But English... No. I don't want to hear the lyrics. Usually.
And dear lord, drinking chai is like drinking autumn. I can't wait for summer to be over.