Morning Procrastination

Today's supposed to be the day I conquer the world. I literally have a million things to do in the next eight hours, then work, then part three of that photo shoot. The problem is that my bed feels so amazing right now.


By the way, here are the proofs from the first shoot. They're practically unedited, and we've since changed the concept, the location, the outfits, and my hair color. . .so we can't use them, but it was a start.

Ugh, okay. Pluck the day.

Pttthpthh

It's 3:28 in the morning. Everyone went to bed a long time ago, so I've been amusing myself by clicking 'random' on xkcd for hours. Seriously. And I have come to two conclusions:

1. Randall Munroe is the kind of man (maybe the actual man, he's only 24) I want to marry, if I ever even become a dateable person again, which is unlikely.

2. I totally forgot that the very sentiment for which I love David Foster Wallace was articulated a couple years earlier in Sandman, and I don't know how I feel about this. Which is nerdier? Or does it matter?


P.S. God I'm such a creep.