Large amounts of tapas, whining and sangria last night, almost sleeping through a fire drill, actually getting up and going for a run this morning, supposedly non-drowsy hayfever pills, muggy heat: in the words of one of the Moomintroll books, I am almost dead beat on tired little feet. Also, and probably not coincidentally, I've become one of those young urban professionals whose coffee order in Starbucks (tall skinny extra-shot iced vanilla latte) takes longer to pronounce than to drink. Still, none of this tiredness is actually work-related, so it's all cool.
My current targeted advertisement on gmail says "Do you deserve a Ph.D?". STOP IT GMAIL.
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