I have none of these things to say about my own ppt. it's groaning at the stithes I have sliced into it with an upholstry needle like a prototypical frankestein. I'm finding it hard to tell if my text is italicized or bold due to the fact that I cannot really make out letters below 12 point and my depth perception is tumbling away and away and away.
At least I managed to secure the pharmacology conference room for 3:30, so assumedly there'll be a projector in there for me to use. I could even bring something to eat, but that might be too much. I'm so glad that there isn't any swordfighting class tonight, because I'm too drained to be able to fool with that right now. I think tomorrow I'm gonna fill up the new punching bag with water and beat the living shit out of it like that alley scene in They Live.
I'm too lazy to cook right now, which is really unfortunate because I've got a 2-INCH THICK t-bone languishing in the refrigerator plaintively moaning for me to throw it on the grill and make it hiss and spit like some kind of aphasic Nell-like wolf-raised toddler.