Dead Week is just beginning, the true Finals panic has yet to set in, and the computer labs are only at half-capacity. Written on the white board at the front of the room is this poem:
My candle burns at both ends,
It will not last the night.
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends-
It gives a lovely light.
-- Millay
It's rather ominous, wouldn't you agree?
Brent asked what I wanted for my birthday. I told him to get me some pants.
... but mostly gratuitous ego-boosting
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