In yet another clever move, Candice sleeps through psychology class, bringing the number of consecutively missed psychology classes to five, now outnumbering psychology classes actually attended (four). This also brings the total number of classes missed this week to four, while leaving the number of classes attended at two (though technically… cancelled classes don’t count, even if I thought I was skipping it at the time), with a slight possibility of moving up to three, assuming that it will be possible tomorrow to get up for ten. I suppose I could still tie, except that a one hour class really doesn’t match up to a three hour class. See, if you consider the hours spent in class this week… Which for your information, I WON’T, because dammit, just how bored do you think I am? Right. Well probably more bored than that, but not bored enough to do simple addition, because hell, it’s just too too early.

Anyway, she’s a smart one, that Candice.

Kindly excuse me.
Whilst I employ the psychology textbook as a head pummeling device.
The purpose of which will be to return myself to unconsciousness, thusly avoiding having to go pick up my print for design, and having to see how badly and pixellated it turned out, for I’m fairly certain that my resolution was too low.
Though I should probably get up and eat (or at least feed the Sean).
I am overly hungry.
I just had a dream about BLTs.
Poorly made BLTs, but BLTs nonetheless.
And it had NOTHING, but NOTHING to do with the fact that the sandwich artist was dressed in green and yellow, despite what the authorities might think.
I still hated his sandwiches just as much when he was dressed as a bumblebee.

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