...I worried about Kate a lot, and chased Tanya C down corridors giggling.
...I have the neckache from hell.
...we had the mother of all poetry comparison essays to do, in under an hour. Oy.
Sometimes I really don't understand myself - I warned and warned myself that this weekend I was emphatically Not Expecting Anything, but I warned myself about the wrong bloody day.
Gah. I always get something wrong. ~s~
Fuck, I'm exhausted.