It's 4:08. I just handed my typography professor who I have a big damn crush on my process book that I have spent the last fourteen wee hours working on. I'll give him my burned work CD in a moment.
And then that's all.
I'm free.
I will go home, lay on the grass, and read Even Cowgirls Get The Blues until my exhaustion catches up with me. Or I
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That is all.
That moment of elation for me is still more than a week away.
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