Well, I knew that this week was going to suck. But knowing and experiencing are two very different things. Blech, is what I say.
Yesterday I spent the day madly typing up an assignment that's due tomorrow, and desperately trying to read the books that I need to have read for this week. Didn't finish the assigment and so I've been working on it today, too. And then I have a day or so to write that exam ... Blech. And all this typing is murder on carpy arms, let me tell you. I'm doing my best to keep it out of my wrists and elbows (with some success), but am fighting a losing battle against the muscles in my lower arm.
I say to my arms the same thing that I say to my computer: just one more week, that's all I ask.
(Course, I'm really lying to the both of them. I have things I still need to write after this week of classes, including another exam and that short story. But shhh, don't tell them that.)
Also, it's raining today, and having finished the box of Rice Krispies and discovered that we were down to one roll of toilet paper, a grocery shopping trip was required. Avoided the nasty No Frills on Bloor and went instead to the fancy-shmancy Loblaws to shop with the upper-class housewives who so enjoying giving two 22-year-old students the stink eye. It's kind of funny, actually.
I've also received some excellent title recommendations for the story formerly known as Peak of the Ocean, and hope to send a list of the top few to Julie this evening. And I ate some pie. That was good. So it's not all pain and rain and ruin, I suppose; it just feels that way sometimes.