Go the Fuck to Sleep

I'm on this great new diet. It's called: Poor and Busy. Admittedly, this diet can lead to sickly waifdom or morbid obesity, depending on habit. My habits tend toward off-brand Trader Joe's nutra-grain bars (e.g. "This fig walks into a bar"), the really old pasta in the finzi lab walk-in fridge, and carrots, which are portable, pre-washed, and sold at cvs. Earlier this week, Carmella sent some chives, spinach, and herbs via our Australian couchsurfer, Lachie, which are much appreciated.

I was looking at my old stats notes, and noticing that when I get bored in class, I don't stop taking notes, I just get wildly off topic. Tucked into the corner of a page full of SAS code is a class cast of characters:
Prof Tim (starring Harrison Ford)
Exacerbated Dumb Questions Lady ("Excuse me, WHY do we care about the sample size?)
Caffeinated Vocal Affirmations Girl ("mmm...mmmhhmmm...ohhh...mmmHMMM..." WE CAN SEE YOU NODDING I'M GLAD YOU GET IT NOW SHUT UP)
Girl with water fountain ponytail that blocks my view of the board as it bobs around on her head
Guy that looks like Rocky Balboa.
Probably never making it into the feature film that gets made about my blog in 50 years when they've systematically made films about every blog that has more than 5 readers....and then get to me.

Also, I'm going to try and get my laundry done tomorrow before the rapture, taking place at 6pm (Local time everywhere, so check with Australia first to decide whether or not to repent). I hope they take Teds Nugent and Haggard because I don't want those dicks on Earth anymore making death threats or torturing gay kids. They can hang out with Jerry Falwell in whatever sexless, hateful cloudfest they've got going on up there.

Colleague and cool mom Aryn sent me the world's best children's book, reproduced in total, illegally, for you: