What a week. It flew by, but damn if it didn't suck. I haven't shaved in days because my alarm didn't wake me in time to do anything except jump out of bed, into crunchy socks and denim, and out the door. I've had to keep up with SIX (6) cell lines all week, and try and try and try to get RNA from a kit that decided that sludge would be funnier. And it's cold and wet, I got a ticket (which I'll put with the other 6 or 7 I've gotten in the past few months -- crumpled up on the cold, wet pavement), and I'm sick of teaching English as a second goddamn language to a guy who's supposed to have his shit together. It's too wet and freezing to ride my bike and to cold to walk from the truck's parking lot to work. About the only decent thing to happen this whole week was the one jerk I had the other night, right between awake and asleep. But shit, a week can't hang on four knuckles and a thumb.
Well I guess we can only see what tomorrow's sun looks like and greet that sunovabitch with teeth bared. And calloused knuckles.