Some days I feel like Mr. Perlman speaks for all of us. What have birds ever done for me?
I think I'm in the delusional part of the semester. I keep getting thoughts like 'If I could just NOT sleep or leave the house this weekend, I could be done with my final papers by Monday!'
I mean I guess I could.
That's feasible, right?
I still feel like an Undergrad that signed up for the wrong classes and it's making it really hard to start anything concrete, because it all feels wrong. This is not my beautiful house. This is not my beautiful wife.
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