With an Extra-Sweet, Triple-shot Venti Vanilla Latte, a container of last nights leftover spaghetti and a pumpkin scone, Linds settles down to a seven hour marathon of typography homework. It's almost ten thirty at night, and I'm planning on seeing how long I can take staring at the screen, fiddling with letterforms, until my eyes glaze over and I fall asleep on the keyboard of my laptop.
What I really want to do is curl up in bed with my boyfriend... Who's not here. Damn I miss him.
Someone shoot me now.
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