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What the hell, body. I skipped choir last night in order to give you ten hours of sleep, took a nap earlier this afternoon, and you're STILL EXHAUSTED? What is this? SHAPE UP.
Today after my anatomy prac (abdominal viscera -- finally, something I find it difficult to get enthusiastic about) I sat in the beautiful, beautiful almost-spring sunshine in Union Court and read The Merchant of Venice while wearing my SHAKESPEARE HATES YOUR EMO POEMS shirt. I felt very meta. And I'd forgotten how kickass that play is, seriously, it's fantastic and funny and hilariously gay. (I have a tutoring session later this afternoon wherein I will get paid to help someone with an essay on it. Shakespeare = money does not seem like it should compute. This must be what actors feel like ALL THE TIME.)
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lone_lilly linked to this Office promo, and if I weren't feeling like death warmed up I would be leaping around going OMGOMGOMG à la Kelly Kapoor (who seems to have acquired some bitchin' attitude, by the way).
Today after my anatomy prac (abdominal viscera -- finally, something I find it difficult to get enthusiastic about) I sat in the beautiful, beautiful almost-spring sunshine in Union Court and read The Merchant of Venice while wearing my SHAKESPEARE HATES YOUR EMO POEMS shirt. I felt very meta. And I'd forgotten how kickass that play is, seriously, it's fantastic and funny and hilariously gay. (I have a tutoring session later this afternoon wherein I will get paid to help someone with an essay on it. Shakespeare = money does not seem like it should compute. This must be what actors feel like ALL THE TIME.)
lone_lilly linked to this Office promo, and if I weren't feeling like death warmed up I would be leaping around going OMGOMGOMG à la Kelly Kapoor (who seems to have acquired some bitchin' attitude, by the way).