Testing Times

It’s finals week and my existential crisis is such that I don’t want to make a Facebook post (because unless I can express myself in a meme my crisis wouldn’t​ be adequately cool) and I can’t tweet because I’m not a populist politician with flare for expressing myself in 140 characters.

I decided to deal with my crisis by making myself a cup of chai so strong that truck drivers on the NH8 would flinch. I am also congratulating myself on having remembered to buy a pecan pie that will fill the empty space left by the egg that my uterus is currently ejecting.

As I type, I’m nearly done with my tea, and I’ve eaten enough pie to make myself slightly sick. So I have no excuse but to pull down the blinds, open the Word document I loathe, and hope that I leave the long sentences, mixed tenses, and bad punctuation on this post rather than inflict them on my final essay.


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