The sort of day I hate most?
When I pull a – welllll, not an all-nighter, a most-nighter, maybe – to finish my bloody presentation, even though I have to wake up before seven am, in which I succeed with my usual flair and lots of coffee and swearing, but not without failing to put on any make-up, and then, THEN it turns out that I shouldn’t have bothered, ’cause the prof? The prof spends 1.5 hour boasting about books he bought in Korea. And thus. There. Are. No. Presentations. Whatsoever.
LIKE, SAY, TODAY.
I will sleep now and possibly read Pharyngula. NO MORE WORK. EVER. THE BITTERNESS. THE BITTERNESS!