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Jack shit My plan was to work at school all day on my paper, but I'm tired and cold, so I'm going to go home. Mr. Pooh bought Charlie Brown cookie dough with Christmas trees in it, so I'm going to go bake me some cookies. Yum yum. One of my friends just gave a dry run of a talk that he's giving at a conference next month. I was fine when I went in to listen to it, but as soon as I looked at his handout and tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about, my eyelids became ten pounds heavier and all I wanted to do was go home and get back in bed. I think I'm allergic to academia. Did anyone read yesterday's story about poop? Was it too gross? How come only me and toothbrush and neenster have written notes to me? Why do we even have notes? What are they for? What good do they do?
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