*flails and flails and flails and flails*
CURSE YOU TUESDAY FOR BEING A WORK-DAY. And I have to run up to IUP after work to talk to a professor about PhD applications and get a cold, hard, honest, answer about whether or not she thinks I stand a snowball's chance in hell at getting into WMU. SO. I'm not going to be home until at least seven tonight.
But this? Right here? Will give me warm and fuzzies for the entire day. I'm totally sitting here copypasta-ing prompts that make me go O.O to stealthily work on when I'm supposed to be pretending to work on spreadsheets.
Adulthood: Doing it Wrong Since 2005