Saw the Senior Talent Show and Love Story tonight. Love Story is just so amusing... it's this hokey sad movie, which the Crimson Key folks make into this juvenile farce. Hee!
Bleargh! Moving soon!
Yay, moving van secured for Sunday! The downside: 8am!
It's weird when you wake up real late and your roommate has gone off to the beach and you find out she's going to work for IBM from her web page instead of from her. THE WEB IS WEIRD LIKE THAT.
I had a spurt of productivity when I fed myself (well, sort of... a Tropicana smoothie from Christie's), bought packing tape, and got my commencement gown. Woo! My head is just huge; the silly hat just kind of perches on my enormous dome. It threatens to sproing off every second. Bobby pins must be procured. Given all the warnings about the tendency for the gowns to leak purpley-black dye all over your clothes, I think I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt underneath. Maybe my big dragon shoes for a clubby feel. After I returned home, I sorted some shit in the common room, and now I have boxes to tape and clog up the hallway with, and random crap to shove in some sort of boxes. Woo. I guess at some point I will have to do things like get my rug out from under the bed, which will make this place feel like the Commencement housing they give undergrads: cold and bare. Wah.
Woo vacation! Despite going to bed at a reasonably decent hour, I got up today at a wholly unreasonably late hour. Had a truckload of rice, started working on the process of getting a moving van for Sunday. I think my next move is tea. Then perhaps I will finish this packing business.
Despite my claims that I could no longer ignore packing, I managed to for a while longer. Sunday I went over to the Spooky Cube and somehow managed to ingest way too much liquor and ended up staying there until the morning when I could peel myself off the floor (I was having a great time there, listening to Kinnebrew's amusing stories and Morgan making farting noises) and take the T home. Monday was worthless for packing. Amber and I went to see Star Wars in the afternoon, when my hangover had sufficiently subsided such that I could unglue myself from the bed. Star Wars was a good time; not an amazing film, but it had its moments. After that we met the whole crew over at Vinny Testa's for a whole lot of pasta, meatballs, and chocolate bomba. No Vendettas for me; my body still had a vendetta against me from the night before. Eating all that food helped, though, enough so that I could go hang out with Matt at this very cute little bar near Central. Par-tay.
Tuesday finally brought packing, in the late afternoon. I am contemplating going to bed now, as I have made a decent dent in the whole works. More than I expected.
For the last couple of days, I have been experiencing a very bizarre sensation which seems to be some sort of gastrointestinal distress, but not in my stomach and not causing any sort of liquid spewage of either sort. Maybe it's heartburn. I don't think I've ever had heartburn before. Perhaps this is why I am so confused. It totally wrecked my sleep last night. I had dreams that the hampster had gotten really old and was trying to hang herself on a little string (and we were in a hospital of all things!) and then I was trying to make toast and she kept trying to jump in the other slot of the toaster. Ill! Whatever this thing is, it must go away so I can sleep without weird ass dreams.
Wow. So, I was writing up this little schedule for me and my family for next week (yes, I was a Manager), and I got to the part where I was saying what would happen during the Commencement Exercises. I started to write, "The bestest part is when they introduce the B.A's into the world of educated persons," and I got halfway through the sentence and just started crying! Good lord! But it really is just that cool, that part of Commencement. It's always been my favorite moment.
So, I'm hungry. But it's totally pouring! And I'm at this point in packing in which I have just little scraps of stuff to pack EVERYWHERE. Time-consuming, and yet not at all satisfying. Not like packing up my dresser, which took like five minutes, but after which I could point to the dresser and say, lookee, empty!
Wah, my evening plans have been cancelled. I was looking forward to them all day! :-(
When in doubt: G'n'R! Take your angst back a decade!
I may have finally reached the breaking point. I can no longer ignore packing!
Though there is a good bit of looting left to be done... I have to find that window of opportunity after Dorm Crew has put hangers in the doors of the rooms they're going to clean, but before they actually start doing too much in there. Today I found a toaster oven, some bubble wrap, two vases and a toothbrush holder that appeared to have never been used. But once they open up the rooms, that's where the big jackpots will be.
It occurs to me that I have a pathological lust for free stuff.
It's weird, there are only old people online right now. All the kids are either offline completely, or in the process of moving their computers. To Dunster. Heh. Worst housing ever. I never thought they would stick the Band so far away.
It's the weekend. What to do? Went to the party last night which was fun for a while, but then I just got tired. I'm still tired and it's noon! I should start packing.
Marshall decided there should be a jam in the courtyard this afternoon. It's been going on for a few hours. Hanging out down there was such a nicer way to spend the afternoon than anything else I could think of, mostly involving staring at the computer or at the walls. I think there should be music in the courtyard every weekend.
Since I'm not in the flurried process of moving myself yet, I can appreciate the fine things about other people moving out of the building, such as collecting abandoned loot. Jenn got a nice little chair yesterday, and I almost got a vacuum cleaner but it turns out it was abandoned because it sucks. Or rather, doesn't suck. Today there was a really nice picture frame (the picture itself is not spectacular, but it's pretty inoffensive) in the trash area, and in a room on the first floor which was wide open and cleaned out, there was a cooker pot of some sort in the closet. It even fries! Life is good.
About a Boy was actually really good. I wasn't sure what I'd think of it, but I really enjoyed it. I'm glad I went. Matt was in a pleasant mood.
Battle of the nerds!
It's weird to be a senior. Like all these kids that are leaving and packing and such, and I probably won't start packing until next week. It's so nice!
AND Thursday. Don't forget about Thursday. Because I never do.
I wish I had big speakers on this computer so I could share my help desk dance party with everyone. The phones have been wicked dead today (except for the dude who just tried to get Natalie Portman's email address thinking he was all cool that he knew her real last name). All the offices in the back are empty... we could have such a major party in here!
Speaking of the completely fantastical and abominable practice of having parties in University buildings, I had this weird dream that we were having a party in the BR during the summer and for some reason we had it on a night of a summer band rehearsal or concert or something, and these two older women in the Summer Band came in afterwards while we were having the party, and we were so busted. Boy were they surprised. Which is weird because the only time any summer bandies are in the BR are for the music sorting night after the whole shebang is over.
Mimosa. Mimosa. Sleepy!
It can be good to be wrong. :-)
...except it seems I wasn't really...
I decided it would be different then. I decided I would change. I would break out of all the stupid shit, I would break away and I wouldn't need anything that I couldn't get, I would love what I had, I would become so I would love who I was. But it doesn't matter. Pretty soon a request is reacted to in the same way as my former screams. I might as well still be screaming for all it matters. Except for the part about myself. But in the end, if no one really truly loves you, how can you go on trying to love yourself without thinking you're delusional.
Happy Birthday, Courtenay. You make me laugh, even when it seems easier to cry.
In the end you can throw me away, all of you. And you can make me believe that I deserved it. I always turn out to be wrong about understanding. No one understands. I'm better off gritting my teeth with people who clearly don't get me because at least I'm not deceiving myself.
Anger doesn't even make a stand... just the worst kind of sadness.
At work. Must listen to techno and keep tissue handy for those early morning "allergies."
Or to Genesis and giggle... I have the most retarded mix of stuff from Dave's computer.
Am writes to me, "Tool. J/k you're not really a tool, kinda ;)"
So it seems that Emily has been having a streak of headaches like I was earlier this week... perhaps the streak of days without headaches will move south too. :-)
Damn, Celebrity Boxing is really entertaining. I really should have taken its length into consideration when making my evening plans.
Aw, grade inflation. I'm not a big believer in the overwhelming presence of grade inflation, but it's really the only way to explain my grades for this core class I took. My paper, an utter pile of steaming crap, got a b/b+. I thought, eh, b is high-ish, but whatever. Then I remembered he told me that the higher grade was the one that would count. No fucking way it was a b+ paper. Furthermore, on my exam, I knew I had done pretty well on most of it. But the last essay was heinous in its lack of point. 45/50. You've gotta be shitting me. The odd thing, however, was the short essay that I thought was the best got the worst grade of the three short essays. Go figure.
Shit yeah, someone took my hours for tomorrow morning. I decided I could stand to come in at 11 instead of 9, since Kevin was all like, give up hours you have too many! So party tonight!
Suck. It.
There's a fine line between too mean and too justified.
Storey writes, "It's astounding how much the human appetite thirsts for repetition." Hoo boy, is that ever ironically appropriate for today! Get a bunch of humans together and you see how their history repeats, or at least, how it spirals. Things are different, but they're the same, blah, blah. But when you finally have the opportunity for perspective, often it all just seems really funny.
So my sister notes that she is technically a senior now, since her classes are over (she's finishing in 3 years because she got AP credit and took lots of class last summer). I am still technically a senior until I graduate. So we're both seniors for the next few weeks!
So, I start keeping a headache diary, and today, no headaches. So instead I get to have a diary of all the crap I eat all day. Bleh. That's the only thing about working through lunch... the Greenhouse offers me pizza every day, and I luv pizza. And it's cheap. I forgot to order a nice bag lunch at dinner for tomorrow. Maybe I should go to the store before work tomorrow and get some non-crap to eat.
The good and bad thing about being a happy person is the ability to ignore those pangs. But when it gets late, and I have to curl into my bed, sometimes the pangs break through and I feel like I should do something, that I should say something about the little injustices that enrage me. The rage seems less because I don't pay attention to it, but if I look at it closely, it's still the same. Still the same feeling that nothing has really changed, that I suffer the same neglect as always. But if you don't care, then no one can neglect you, and if you stop trying also, then there really is no more issue to be concerned with. Except that is a whole new problem.
Well, at least my headache went away.
I should have gone to bed hours ago.
Woo, help desk! Hours upon hours of nothing to do.
So, no headache today, although I took Benedryl when I felt one brewing. But now I am, like, numb and sleepy.
My sister is coming to live with us today. Woo!
...
The above statement brought to you by the language of the olden times and the happenings of the current times.
By which I mean the systematic ripping up of my insides. And the literal attack of my head day after day. Hey, maybe these are related somehow. I dunno. I just... I'm just going to go cry now because it's easier than sorting anything out.
Woke up with a headache. Je-sus.
Calling in the old school.
As Storey put it last week: WOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!! I'm done with school!!!!
Another wonderful headache. Advil had barely made a dent in it. I have noticed lately that I also have been clenching my jaw a lot. It would seem that I am stressed, but I can't imagine about what.
Heh, maybe Advil isn't the right cure.
Saw Spiderman today. Aw shit, it was so good. Tobey Maguire was tasty goodness. AWWWWW YEEEEAAAH.
So, even though I should be celebratory, since I am free of all schoolwork, I am BLAH. Rar headache. Rar rar. Rar. I am going to suck my brains out so they stop hurting.
ER: WTF? The ending was like the end of a fucking Seinfeld episode or something, in which the situation is left hanging, but, oh, it must just be resolved.
About 12 hours until I am done with my undergraduate academics. And most of that time will be spent sleeping! I have no idea what is going to be on this exam, but it don't really matter.
And then there will be rejoicing.
Dammit, dammit, lack of sleep. I think Primal Scream may not be happening tonight. Or, I'm going to bed immediately after.
This morning's neurosis: Med School Student Syndrome by Proxy. Characterized by worrying about other people for what is probably no reason. But, make sure you get enough thiamine anyway, because it's good for your brain.
Ah, no more headache when I woke up this morning. Although my stomach was a little rumbly, probably from all that wine and coffee and chocolate. It makes bubbles in my tum-tum! (God, that's a sickening sentence). So, now I am writing this last paper... so far, introduction finished, one page down. Nine more to go! Nine and a half hours until class!
Finished the paper with time to spare for dinner. Last paper finished, last class attended, now two days of studying and one last exam! FUCK YEAH!
While it somehow manages not to be nearly so interesting as I originally intended (actually, it's a big ball o' suck compared to the things I could have said), the paper is fucking done. Now I just have to write another one tomorrow for Tuesday. BLEH.
When do I get to have *my* senior fling? I feel more entitled to one than those who are in the process of having them.
How is it I get stuck with all the fucking idiots today?
I swear to God, someday I am going to cut off my head with these headaches.
Prof. Buck is so great. I turned in my paper this morning, and he asked me if he would enjoy it. I told him I hadn't managed to do everything I wanted to with it. Then he was like, well, have a good rest of your life! Suddenly, the paper seemed so much less important.
Senior dinner was da bomb. I was sitting next to the greatest old guy ever. A wonderful cynic. Then after, awesome music... not too many people stuck around, because they are dumb.
But now... this headache. Rar. I have a paper due tomorrow night. I can't write now. I'm going to have to write it at work tomorrow. This is ridiculous, I am going to have to write so fast. I want to cry. But my head hurts too much to write anything now.
:-( And...
I showed up at the party in a poor mood, stayed a little while, and then went home and finished reading this book for my last paper. Productive procrastination, since my real project should be finishing this second-to-last paper (will be done later today, I swear). But I was in such a good mood after being able to cross the last book of the semester off my list, that I went back to the party in a party mood and had phun.
I do have some pessimism leading to great aversion, though.
Dear paper,
Go write yourself. I'm tired of you.
Looks like I got the apartment and the room I want in it. Woo!
Shoot me now.
Linguistic gripe of the year, and an unfortunate one because lots of people I know and respect use this turn of phrase. I do not heart the use of heart as a verb. I'll admit it, it makes me want to gag every time I see it. It substitutes for the little picture of the heart... which substitutes for the word love. Which means there is already a perfectly good verb--love--that can fit in the sentence. I can't quite figure out why this meme is so popular. Maybe it's a feeling that love is too strong a word for the things that people *heart*. Yeeeeg, it makes me cringe to even use it. Anyhoo, that's the only explanation I got. Anyone who uses this should come forth and explain its appeal to me. Until then, I will keep eating antacids whenever I hear this.
Wow, the writing of this paper is not so painful. It's like half done. Well, the easy half. I'm doing this layered-outline thing, in which I just keep going over it and filling in the blanks in more detail over and over. Now it's time for some real filling in of detail, but it should be easy to get this thing to 15. It will still be a sack of shit, but relatively painless to produce. That's what happens when I eat my academic fiber.
I would just like to point out my inconceivable stupidity in signing up for 5 hours of work tomorrow. When I really ought to be sleeping.
P. Buck is my personal hero. I'm just sad that this paper isn't done yet. But at least I will have time to finish and go to work also.
On that (because my paper writing sagas are SO AMAZING), I was totally on track to be done around 3am. But then I got tired. And then I decided I could sleep. This was wrong. I really had no time to sleep. But alas, I am weak.
And I totally want sleep. But there were Fritos!
The problem with trying to go to bed at like 7:30 pm is that when there are loud bands playing at the finals club at like 8pm, it's hard to really be mad, but there still lacks sleep. Blehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.
I've decided that since sleep is eluding me, I'm going to have a dance party in my room, which is easy with the window open.
Twenty-four hours to finish reading stuff for and writing the paper. It's gonna be a big ball of suck.
I am really looking forward to summer. People are starting to drive me nuts.
Now is not really a good time to be feeling tired. As in, when I am planning to pull an all-nighter, which I am terrible at doing anyway, being tired at 3pm is not a good sign.
Okeedok, I suck. Not really, but I slept too late. It took me forever to get to sleep last night, then I woke up really early all crampy, and then I went back to sleep and didn't drag my ass out of bed until 12:30. I went to bed at 1 and still probably only slept 7 hours. Yeeeearrrgh. I have this paper due Friday morning, and the research I have done so far is minimal. It's a 15-pager, which is just beyond total bullshit length, but fortunately not yet into serious research length. And all of us seemed to be roughly equally screwed when we discussed our papers on Monday, so I'm not in a panic. My biggest dilemma at the moment is not wanting to change out of pajamas but wanting to go to lunch. I shouldn't be such a slob as to go to lunch in my pajamas, or, at worst, I should put on shorts. Even though my legs are slightly stubbly. SO MANY DIFFICULT LIFE ISSUES.
Yeah, my life drama level is currently a 1. But, dude, when I think of times when it has been much higher, I'll take this, thanks.
I read one book. Then I went and got two more from the library. This means I have like 8 more books to skim. If all goes well, I will start writing this paper tomorrow night after dinner. I should be starting it in the morning, but ha!
Today hasn't been much of anything. But in its way, it's everything.
Well, I've downgraded to merely annoyed.
Wah, so much work today. But only after I wash this blue shit out of my hair.
So, not a lot of work done today. Bleh.
In class today, talking about Lewis's The Screwtape Letters, we were discussing how good Lewis's description of real humility and humility and people perceive it is. People think they need to strive for this self-abasement, but that is worthless because most of the time people are satisfied just with degrading themselves and they don't act to improve themselves beyond that. Real humility is recognizing the qualities of other people, and not even thinking that much at all about yourself. Guilty people are obsessed with themselves. And most of the time they don't do anything to make themselves better in response to this guilt. So I guess my point is, if you're not going to change, stop burdening yourself and the rest of us with your guilt and self-degradation, or change yourself. Either way, stop sucking. That is what I learned this week.
The other thing I learned this week: evil isn't as obvious as we all would hope.
1) Foreign men tend to like me for some reason. 2) Men driving cabs are often from other countries. 3) When I am all decked out for banquet, cab drivers are willing to drive me home despite me claiming to have no money, in exchange for me being only slightly sketched out. But I am home and in pajamas now, and maybe I will go to bed.
How about another list: 1) I have really only liked one (other) boy in three years. 2) This fact is really fucking clear to everyone. 3) Fuck you fuck you fuck you. 4) The one person I try to talk to about it isn't home even though he clearly is and just hates me. [amendment: this last part wasn't true, just login confusion.]
And the epilogue to the sordid tale was much less amusing than appearances had given cause to believe. Too bad. :-)
It's all a load of crap. Highly-believed crap, but still a truckload of crap.
Not to mention infinitely frustrating.
I wrote early last week about arguing against free will in class, mostly for entertainment. But often enough... how can I possibly believe I have free will when I feel this way? I haven't *willed* anything. If my will were intact, I would have... I don't know. I don't know anything. No, I know one thing, something I don't always want to feel but it's been the only consistent feeling I've had for years now. And it's a feeling that resides outside of reason or will... it's seeded way deeper, it's too stuck to my brain to be moved.
Damn these late nights and early mornings. And now I get to go eat with my freshman entryway? Good lord.
Champagne brunch was pretty fun. It was a little weird seeing everyone again, but it was cool.
And now I have finally seen The Magnificent Seven! I whistle the damn theme all the time (the band used to play it in high school when the team ran to the field), so now I know what the movie is.
But, amount of work completed today: zero. I am so ready for school to be over. I just don't care anymore. I have a job, it seems like my housing is all lined up for the future, I don't want to do schoolwork anymore! Only a couple more weeks...
So, I have stopped angsting about the rent, and have started angsting about residency. They have rent deduction on taxes in Massachusetts, which is automatic if you are a resident, and which is conditional if you are a non-resident. The condition is that your Massachusetts residence must be your principal residence. But, "If a nonresident has two residences, one located in the state of his legal residence and the other located in Massachusetts, the property located in the state of his legal residence is his principal residence." Well, I do have a residence in NM, but it's not really *my* residence anymore. I never really reside there (though a substantial portion of my stuff does). So can I get rental deduction? I'm not sure. So should I become a MA resident? Blech. I mean really, that's the only thing keeping me from doing it. Not wanting to be a MA resident. That, and who knows where I will actually be after two years, and I'd hate to pay all those damn drivers license fees (after already getting a new NM license in January) just to have to maybe pay them again elsewhere. So, I'm cheap. But, I guess the other question becomes whether I *have* to become a resident if I am living here, paying rent here, and working here. For one thing, my driver's license may become in effect, invalid. I think it's only possible to live in a state and be a non-resident if you're going to college or are on some sort of temporary work assignment. Gah! I want some online quiz or something that will tell me whether I have to become a resident or not.
After researching the subject on the web and with the help of Lisa, lawyer-in-training, I think I have concluded that I will be a resident whether I like it or not. And if I want to drive and not get arrested if I get pulled over for something, I have to get a MA driver's license. So, I think the only reasonable conclusion is just to never drive. And hope that there aren't any big official forms that will require a MA license number. Hrm.
Triangles. Fucked. Up.
My life is so undramatic. Just being-an-adult angst. But other people's lives seem to be getting more interesting as reading period begins.
I was making fun of G over break because she was being paranoid. But I appear to be just as bad. I just had a stupid thought about the source of the silence. Reading signs.
Ugh. So, all of a sudden I'm all bleh about not going to the Lowell formal. The table outside the dining hall where they were selling last-minute tickets wasn't a problem (more like, $20 per pop! Suckers), it was that Vicki was all, so you're not going to the formal. Which I guess was obvious since I was eating dinner and not going out to dinner, but some part of my brain is like, why would Vicki assume I wouldn't be going to the formal? Don't I look like the type of person who goes to 80,000 formals a week? This put me in a strange funk during dinner, and then on the way back up the stairs I could hear hair dryers and smell cologne, and I was like, wah, I'm planning on doing reading tonight! I'm so lame!
It's really too bad JPM wasn't at dinner. He always makes me feel like less of a lame-ass. :-)
Heh, fuck reading. I'm going to a Cinco de Mayo party.
So, my TF was very benevolent yesterday and told us we could turn it in by 5 today without penalty. Does this mean my paper is finished yet? Not a chance.
Part of why that is, however, is that I looked at an apartment last night that opens up in September. And it was awesome. It's in Union Square, in a really nice neighborhood. Union Square is good and has a grocery store and shops and the exact bus stop I need to use to get to Longwood. The apartment is on the third floor. It's got hardwood floors, a really cool living room with this little bay windows corner that is too cute, a lovely kitchen with a huge pantry, and a tiny little bathroom, but with all the proper parts so who cares. There is also an extra closet in the hall. Currently there are two people living there, but Lisa (yes, I like to confuse people by knowing many people by the same name), who is staying, wants to get two roommates so the rent is cheaper. It's an extravagant amount of space for two people, and rather ample for three. The one bedroom that I love and want want want is large, has a giant closet, and a deck! A deck! The deck excites me more than words can say. The other possible room is very large, but isn't as exciting to me. Furthermore, Lisa is a very cool person. She's a professor of philosophy at UMass-Boston, which as you'd guess means she's older than me by a bit, but I would have guessed she was much younger than she is. We have very similar philosophies of living with others, and similar living temperaments in that we expect to hang out a bit and chat, but mostly do our own thing. She'll be working a lot because she's trying to get tenure. We also have similar feelings about keeping the heat up because she's from Arizona and likes the house to be warm (and heat's included in the rent!). And she felt the same way about the other girl that was visiting the place--dislike! The kind of quirky thing is that she's actually getting married in July, but she won't be moving out for another year or so because her husband will have to finish his graduate work at Cornell (where she met him getting her Ph.D.). That kind of amused me. She definitely has her quirks, but then again, so do I. The other girl looking at the place was one of these types that you can just tell will trap you into hours of conversation about how much her life sucks and how incompetent the people around her are, all in a terrible droning voice. Yeargh. The kind of quirky thing about Lisa is that she's actually getting married in July, but she won't be moving out for another year or so because her husband will have to finish his graduate work at Cornell (where she met him getting her Ph.D.). That kind of amused me. She definitely has her quirks, but then again, so do I. So, great location, great apartment, cool roommate. Oh! And the other thing is that nearly all the furniture and most of the stuff in the kitchen is hers, so it's staying. I will probably have to buy bedroom stuff and that's it, at least until she moves. But by then I'll have more money. So it's damn near like renting a furnished place.
I was angsting last night because while this is all perfect, the rent is on the upper limit of what I'd like to pay, and I would hate it if I discovered that jumped the gun and could have found something equally good for much less. I posed the question to several people, and most of them have assured me that while I might possibly find something for less, this deal seems pretty damn good and I might be dumb to pass it up. It's totally ideal. So I emailed Lisa today and let her know that I was interested, and she says that puts me first on the list, because she thinks I would be a good fit. So she's going to keep showing the place, and if I'm still in the top two coolest after all that, we'll all meet and see if the two new people like each other. I'm sure the second person will be good as she has shown her good judgement in weeding out the bad thus far. So, yay for cool apartment! I'm just thrilled.
That positive feeling is looking stupider and stupider.
So, I had my loan exit interview today. It's not really an interview so much as they give you a big packet with the damage, and then tell you and a bunch of other people what's in it. And then you sign your life away and cry about the 15% of your income that is going to be funneled into your past. For ten years. Well, except for the grad school in the middle, but whatever. So I will be watching my budget, I guess.
Oh my God, I'm so screwed! I think I just like this process, or thinking I will finish the paper, coming to the revelation that I will not finish on time, accepting this fact, seeking assurance from the TF or professor that turning it in late is okay if not great, and then in the shade of benevolent forgiveness, finishing the paper.
My total lack of productivity is an awesome feat. How I am going to both research and write a 10-pager by 1pm tomorrow is currently unknown, but somehow I still have the stupid feeling it will all work out.