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07 May 2004 @ 01:38 am
Cigarettes: 15
Coffee: 5 large cups
Existential freak outs: 3, one of which resulted in me looking at plane tickets to New Orleans, and planning a life there as a pastry chef. Mmm beignets.
Shoe casualties: 1 -- I threw it across the room. It impaled itself on a standing lamp. It was a dying sneaker anyway.
Pens exploded in mouth: 1. My lips? Still with the blue.
Pages read: 527 of *class work*, and even more of research for my term paper.
Presentations given: One that doesn't even bear thinking of.
Hours of sleep the previous night: Five
Hours of sleep the night before that: Five and a half.
Brain: Mush. Gross, grey, oatmealey mush that is good for absolutely nothing.
Panic: Moderate. Only moderate. Really. I swear to God.
Current Mood: exhaustedexhausted
Current Music: Untitled (How Does It Feel) - D'Angelo
07 May 2004 @ 04:07 pm
Let me now pimp something which deserves pimping like whoa. The lovely pun who always has the nicest ideas has yet another on! The Feedback Challenge! It's a challenge to get people to...wait for it...give and receive large amounts of feedback! It's multi-fandom, and y'all, there ain't nobody in the world who doesn't want more feedback. Trust me. So go! Sign up! Write somebody a nice little email, make their day, get your day made in turn. Who *isn't* all about that business?

I sure am.

Also, this afternoon equals Nif Procrastinates Time but later tonight begins Phase One of Mission Weekend Work.

...sometimes I wish I wasn't such a ridiculous slacker. The end of the semester is definitely one of those times.
Current Mood: bouncybouncy
Current Music: Why Do Kamikaze Pilots Wear Helmets? - Red Light Sting