An interruption to our regularly scheduled broadcast

Which basically means I'm taking a break from FINALLY working on/writing my senior research paper. You know, being that I've got less than 3 weeks until I graduate, it's probably a good idea to get this bitch under control. Have no fear, progress is being made. I actually have a solid 3 pages of writing and some figures in, which is a huge improvement from my zero pages about 2 hours ago.

I don't know about y'all, but I had a pretty dang good Thanksgiving. In fact, I had two of them, one of which include mounds of my mother's yummy cooking which she does FAR too infrequently for my liking because no matter how much you try to replicate your mother's recipe, something is always missing. So, needless to say, I gained about five pounds Friday alone. Oh well!

But what does this all mean? It means that my FAVORITE FUCKING HOLIDAY is upon us! Christmas is almost here! I love this dang season and I'm doing everything I can to shake off this crazy, stressful, depressing funk that's been clinging to me and embracing my favorite time of year. I decorated my place and now every time I walk in my front door it makes me smile. I'm getting my tree this coming week and will squeal with delight once it's in it's proper place, lights all aglow. I've enjoyed my peppermint mochas and spiced apple ciders in the red cup from starbucks and I've begun my all time favorite activity: christmas shopping for all! I love giving people gifts and watching their faces light up as they open them. Whether it's a big or small gift, the joy of giving something to someone warms my soul (assuming I still have one of course).

Anyways, I digress. This post was supposed to be about the fact that the only place I can ever get any work done is Starbucks. So, as I'm sitting here I nearly laughed out loud remembering a story I forgot to post here about the last time I was camped out at a starbucks in F-town. There I was, frantically banging away at my keyboard, emailing professors at universities left and right to try and find some damn sponsorship for my future when, EEK, the urge to void all the caffeine I just consumed hit me. I made sure my belongings were secure and scurried off to the loo, locking the door behind me. As I was washing my hand I was incredibly glad I had just emptied my bladder because someone slammed their body against the door while rattling the handle to open it. Finding their path blocked after ramming the door like a left tackle, they proceeded to knock incessantly on the door. Annoyed, I opened the door with wet hands still clutching a paper towel to come face to face with a large, strange woman, dressed from head to toe in some fashion of clothes/pajamas in many shades of pink, who seemed startled to find another human on the other side of the door. She looked at me and said "I didn't know anyone was in there."

No apology.
No "excuse me".
Just pure stupidity.

I finished drying my hands, tossed the paper towel in the trash and squeezed past her and explained to her in as few words as possible that that's what the locked door was all about.

Surprisingly, after that incident, pimping myself out to all of mankind felt somewhat more satisfying because hell, even if I didn't get a sponsor, at least I knew the functions of a locked door.


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