Student Breaks Down and Buys Cup of Goon Juice in Middle of Night

Oh, boy. I am c-r-a-b-b-y.

The longer I sit in the Law Journal office, the longer I think about committing homicide. If I ever meet the author of this article I'm checking, I swear to God, he is toast. Since I'm a pacifist, I'll have to resort to slipping a vial of poison in his drink.

The dude makes these wild claims in his article, then cites a whole damn book to support it. So it's up to me to leaf through the whole flippin' book to find the quote or whatever. Are you kidding me? Each cite is taking a hundred years to check. I did not sign up for this. I thought Law Journal would be all about martinis and polo tournaments?

Had to go on a field trip to the U of M biomedical library tonight to obtain some sources that were taking too long to get here. Was not too happy about that because I hate to deal with parking etc. at the U and walking through the zillion buildings over in the medical area confuses and annoys me. I was pretty crabby to begin with because I have a super bad cold, so the whole Journal debacle was getting to be a little too much to deal with, especially when the library didn't have one of the journals I needed even though their database said they had it. Since I was in the area, I decided to try to eat my feelings at The Village Wok, but that didn't really help either.

So, anyhoo, after slogging through my night class, I returned to the Journal office to seethe about these sources. Finally I sent an email to Summra calling for help. She dragged me out of the office and we went for a brisk little walk in which we passed two coffee shops that had closed at 11. We thought they were open until midnight.

This leads us to the headline. There are only two times when one would ever resort to buying Goon Juice. The first is when it is so late that all the coffee shops are closed. The second is when you can't keep your head up in class and there is absolutely no time to run to a coffee shop before the next class.

What is Goon Juice? You know, the crappy Nescafe coffee machine in the basement. You pay sixty cents and push the button that says "French Vanilla Cappuccino" and you end up with a cup of....powder? sugar?...don't think about what it is! Just drink it. There, there. OK.