I am not a drama queen, and well, ok - I am a drama queen and I am trying to outdo myself.
Thank you,
Connie Cobb
Well, slippery sue's and melancholy mike's - IT IS OVER! The last final has been taken, it has been writ in the Gods, and has subsequently been shat out by a disgruntled doberman. We are all very, very lucky that semesters like this one must come to an end, because this has been, hands down, the worst semester of my entire life - no thanks to needless procrastination and my constant attempted personification of an owl. It's over! The motherfucker is done, stick a fork in it! I feel ever-so nauseous! Weeeeeeeeee!
On a related note, I would like to add that I filled an entire blue book in under an hour on Callot, Watteau, Chardin, and St. Aubin. And I didn't study a lick. In this self-boosting here, though, we will all cry a river when I get a damn C or something on the final, and a C in the class, or something horrific. Who cares! It's done!