Today I received a packet of new student information from DMS. Included in the packet was the date by which and the amount for which DMS would like a check.
Three Labatt Nordics later, I still have not made peace with this news. I do have to pee, though.
In worse news, Number Ten invited me to see the documentary Black Gold on Saturday. An excerpt from the movie blurb reads, "The film connects the dots of our global economy, putting a human face on a systemic problem largely hidden from the caffeinated consumer." In other words, Saturday morning I will enjoy my final guilt-free cup of coffee.
Thanks, Number Ten. No, really, thanks, Ten. What was wrong with The Quaker Oatmeal Man: Breakfast Prodigy or Godless Pedophile?, Brussels Sprouts: Little Green Carcinogens, or I Pretended to Like Your Sandwich So You Would Shut The Good God D@%& Up About It? Already seen them all? Inconvenient showtimes? Couldn't get tickets?
In the worst news of all, Agent Yellow is sic [sic]. I know this because I can intuit exactly how she's feeling at any given moment in time. Also because she went to bed before I did tonight. Also because she told me she is sick.