procrastination station

I am totally renting the machine this weekend.  Glory!  I have to call G Street and get them to be a bit more specific about deposits and pick-up windows, but all should go well.  Now, the only question is whether I head out to the one by Chick-fil-A or the one in the same city as F. Scott Fitzgerald’s grave (we don’t talk about Zelda here).  Chick-fil-A is owned by an abhorrent git, but I hear they have good waffle fries.  F. Scott Fitzgerald is probably the reason why I will commit my life to spinsterhood and prose.  Oh, decisions.

I have traced and cut out a pattern.  Here it is in blurry, romantic, dormitory evening glow, in case you were wondering:

Also, here be a visual aid for the knitting situation, in case you find yourself caring (I don’t):

If my geometry is correct, it takes more yarn to add the same amount of circumference to whole the farther out you get, so volume is not an accurate measurement if we’re trying to compare the amounts of yarn (I guess weight would do it, yeah?).   Also, yes those are my flannel sheets.  The elegance, man.  I can’t wait to send out internship applications and wait for prospective employers to land on this here goldmine of genius.

I’m off to sleep early so that I can get up before dawn to study for my Arabic exam and pretend to work on my paper.  Tell me, reader, were your college/university years the best of your life?  I’m hoping that that’s a really sad lie as I’d love to have leisure time and sleep reenter my life’s equation at some point.  I dream big, obviously.

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