drink from the chalice of cheap escape
I honestly cannot decide whether I am so tired I am about to fall over, or if I feel sick. I feel like one of those optical illusions which rely on an unstable percept. Is it a vase? Is it two faces? Is it my immune system throwing a hissy fit? Is it the result of staying up 'til 1am frantically finishing this damn pinch-hit*?
Anyway, I'm going to throw myself into some HTML tagging, submit the damn thing, and then have an experimental nap.
*Hey, self. You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. Pinch-hits are not supposed to pass 5000 words. Please remember this for next time.
Anyway, I'm going to throw myself into some HTML tagging, submit the damn thing, and then have an experimental nap.
*Hey, self. You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means. Pinch-hits are not supposed to pass 5000 words. Please remember this for next time.

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what. what. Owen? where? OH. mood theme.
FIC FORMATTED AND SUBMITTED. No lecture recordings up, grr. And now to nap.
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p.s. i just wrote sam and dean hunting in a hallmark store. YOU KNOW YOU WANT IT.
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I do want it, but I also have a textbook to study before I help make dinner and go to choir.
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