I am rapidly running out of time to do things in New York, and I think I'm kind of starting to panic. Lavina just told me, in large friendly letters, DON'T PANIC, though, which I think is very sound advice. So in lieu of panicking, we're sending each other pictures of French bulldogs, which, despite the fact that I dislike dogs intensely, are also insanely adorable.
I'm also enjoying the coffee and donuts (doughnuts? I can never decide how I like to spell that word) brought in by a coworker of mine, in honor of my last day here before I jet off to learn about cancer and Congress. I totally won the Nice Morning Surprise award! I'd like to thank all the people that made this possible -- who I suppose would be just the guy who brought in the coffee and donuts. So, yeah, thanks to him! Rah!!
I'm meeting people to watch movies tonight, and then I'm meeting people to watch movies tomorrow, and the part I'm really unsure of is when exactly am I going to pack up all my stuff. Also mystifying me: Where has my grey suit gone? Do you know where my black BR polo t-shirt is? Should I pack a cutting board, or does my mom have a decent one I can borrow? Is the UPS Store open on Sundays? Why did I forget my bag at Bill's house yesterday? Do I want to go back to a dentist who, instead of scraping and polishing my teeth, sandblasted them with a high-powered stream of baking soda (which sounds weird, right, but I can assure you is even fucking weirder when it's happening in the confines of your own mouth)? Why do I feel like I'm constantly on an episode of Candid Camera?
Also I should mention that I found a set of XL-twin sheets. Seafoam green. 180-threadcount. They're positively dreadful.