Pre-Finals Week Blues

One time I was sitting in a library, with Jennie at a desk not too far behind me, because it was the week before finals and that always means going to the library, when I realized that I wouldn't be going to bed for at least another four hours because I still had six pages to write; well, that one time is actually this time, meaning right now, and by that I mean I am so beyond screwed because, like I said, six pages you guys -- six freaking pages -- all of which will have to be proofread and edited and perfectified (and yes, I am completely aware that I just made up a word, but I bet you like it just much as I do) and then printed and stapled and finished, done, destroyed like the one ring that ruled them all in the fiery depths of Mount Doom, but hopefully I, unlike poor Mr. Baggins, will be able to keep my index finger, as I am incredibly fond of it (more so than I am of my other fingers even, seeing as it is the least crooked -- oh yes my fingers are terribly crooked, and I will attribute that to my incessant knuckle cracking) and I do not wish to be a nine-fingered woman, although I suppose there are worse things I could be...

Like this. This would be worse.

Anyway. How was that for a long sentence? Holleratcha.

Wish me luck.