Edit 12/26/2015 6:48 a.m.: Wet. Thanks Jules.
I had a frustrating morning at work followed by having actually nothing to do in the afternoon. I needed to do laundry when I got home, though I felt like boiling when I went outside. Five out of seven washing machines in the laundromat were busted, and a slightly unhinged painter (in the construction sense) struck up a conversation with me, though I could tell the lady who runs the laundromat was unhappy with his presence. Following an extended ramble about his views on life, I found a skip in his beat and bailed. I played Splatoon with Nathan, watched a bit of Wet Hot American Summer with him, and went back to packing clothes and stuff. The move is so close I can taste it...
This paragraph is a sports rant, feel free to disregard. I was hungry for hockey and going back through old game recaps. Blackhawks fans always throw around the word "classy" as if they know what it means in everyone else's threads. Then you see "I wonder who the Hawks are going to play in the final" and then dudes are shitting on the Ducks after a hard-fought game 7. But that's not lack of class, it's "supporting your team." I hate those guys.
Quote of the day:
"Her offer letter was presented to her in a silk Burberry scarf." - Lauren P, re: roommate in finance
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