This is a little premature, but pretty much, I'm emerging from HT-life.

There is still the anxiety of counting words with the department, with printing and with binding-- and making the final deadline. But everything is pretty much locked down at this point...

It's amazing how little time I have to catch my breath. Already my next deadlines are pressing against my throat. The boyfriend says they don't matter and I should take it easy. But we both know I'm going to throw an inordinate amount of work into it. Part of it is just that it's who I am. Part of it is plain nostalgia-- I am leaving school, and truth be told, I have loved the work part of school, so of course I'm going to freaking embrace the last scraps of it I have left.

"A supermarket poll reported by the Times of London (January, 2004) revealed that Britain's top 10 favorite smells were: fresh bread, frying bacon, coffee, ironing, cut grass, babies, the sea, Christmas tree, perfume, and fish & chips."

My kind of people indeed. I wonder what the French prefer.

New affairs, new subjects. I'm emerging from the blood bath, thankful that it was so fucking fantastic but ready to move on.