Standing over the radiator vent.
The smell of steeping raspberry tea.
Snow covering the Charles.
This was my view for a while in this latest, interminable paper-writin' marathon:
That is, indeed, the underside of a table in a dark, windowless room. You haven't hit rock bottom until you are actually lying on the floor, too exhausted to stand.
You might think I couldn't possibly produce more self-indulgent whining, but I assure you I can. Just wait until next semester!
2 comments:
For a minute there, I thought you had posted the picture of me curled on the floor in a fetal position.
I considered it, but I value your privacy too much for that. ♥
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