sunday crunch time.

I've gotten into a bad habit of eating at McDonald's. It's close to my house, it's super cheap, and sometimes... $1 double cheeseburgers just taste good. It's also comforting on days like today, when I feel like I'm drowning in the world. Nothing like a little saturated fat to keep you afloat. Really, though, it's Sunday afternoon and I've accomplished virtually nothing this weekend. At least in the productive, academic sense. Or the productive pay-your-bills, get-your-oil-changed, do-your-laundry, buy-your-cat-food sense. On the Buelsy Productivity Scale, it was a 0. Time for a heart-weakening eight hour catch up session.

I did see Snakemouth, which was wonderful and bizarre. Wonderful because I love her, and bizarre because it felt like the past year and a half hadn't even existed. At one point on Thursday evening, I could have sworn that Gayley Avenue was down the block and around the corner, that JAD was across the hall, and that imbibing alcohol was a deliciously bad idea because I had to work at Expo in the morning. I understand the concept of Glory Days now.

I also saw an improv. show where A was working, went to a Capoeira performance*, caught up with K and CT (who FELL DOWN at said Capoeira show), and was prescribed lots of pharmaceuticals to make me feel less sad about developing sciatica at such a young age.

*Totally rad. I want to join. Not sure if they take sciatic neurotics.

My prospectus meeting is on Wednesday. I'm going to go hyperventilate now.

--buelsy (speeches to write, bills to pay)