Doctor.

I am done.

I finished somewhere in-between the end of a hill repeat, brownies, and a purple painted rock. It feels good, the done-ness of it all. I like it.

I'm in the library now. Soon to go upstairs and indulge in every Beatrix Potter story available and maybe finish a mermaid story and eat pasta. 

I have been trying really hard to be kinder lately. 

I was watching Doctor Who with my little brother the other night, and we were talking about being kind, and I asked him if I was kind. " Sometimes you're nice," he said. 

I don't think "sometimes" is a good answer to that question.

There's a lady standing outside the campus library. She stopped me to talk while I was on my way in. She was of course holding a sign that said, "Decrimanilize Marijuana." I think that's a Bend-ite way of asking people to legalize marijuana. 

"Are you a registered Oregon voter?" she asked me. 

No, I wanted to say. "Yes," I said. 

"This is a very important issue and I have a petition here for you to sign so that we can legalize marijuana." She said all of that. She looked really nice. She had a few piercings and a tattoo, but her hair was done and she was smiling. Why do people like that always smile at me?

"I'm sorry," I told her. I promise I said it sweetly. I even stopped and smiled back at her. "I don't believe in legalizing marijuana." And then I left. Because I'm trying, I am trying to be nicer. 

It's so hard.

Harder than my French final I think.

Now for mermaids an Beatrix Potter. Those I can do. But please don't ask me to support your cause for legalizing a drug that potentially ruins your intellectual capabilities, kills your lungs, and destroys families. 

I am trying to be kind. Not naive.