"Everybody misspells the word definitely. And ridiculous. Which is ridiculous."

It's ten thirty.

I'm eating a cookie and bemoaning and/or rejoicing the fact that my black riding pants were scandalized last night while I was supposed to be writing a Women's Studies commentary on the social knowledge of disability, which I'm being forced by time constraints to write now, four hours before it's due. Bemoaning because who the hell knows when I'll next do laundry and I had wanted to wear those pants tomorrow. Rejoicing because, well, that really requires no explanation, now does it.

My life, right now, is nothing short of ridiculous. Definitely.