With a capital Z like weezy

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I finally gave in to trying the papa johns on campus. I knew that once I let myself have a slice, I'd probably give in more often than not. It's greazy, so greasy that you have to say it in a way that stretches out the eeeeeeee sound, like the cheeeeeeeeese that end up being pulled off the pizza on the way to your mouth. The pepperonis shine bright red, they seem to be a warning of impending doom (or diabetes). I thought about getting smart water, but Coke is cheaper, and I already gave into the greazy cheezy trap, quicker than a mouse.
Today is Tuesday, which is turning into my favorite day of the week. I have all my writing classes on Tuesday, and although that means I'm stuck on campus for the rest of the day, it means I may learn something. My story was supposed to be critiqued today, read out loud in all it's glory, only to be picked apart piece by piece. But in a change of fate, it was read aloud by a shaky me, a voice toooooo louuuuud echoing in my ears last Thursday. Due to the short notice, I didn't have time to get anxious, making it a fairly pleasant experience. The teacher told me I have talent, that I can make things sound beautiful. I felt breezy like Yeeeeezy, on top of the world.

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