I'm on lots of cold medicine right now and cannot focus on anything for more than a minute. My apologies in advance if this post is a little incoherent. Yay drugs!

Now time to say what I came here to say: I hate Saturdays. You probably do too, you just don't know it. Saturdays are a test; you are given one big ol' free day to do with it what you like and you therefore get to make only one of two choices:

be an adult and do something productive, or

don't do something productive because you know that no one is there to enforce the consequences.

My battle with my self conscience on an entire Saturday is the same as the one I go through each morning:

"Lizy, get up."
"No."
"You need to get shit done."
"But sleeping is great!"
"You'll have money and a career and lots of attractive sexual partners if you get your shit done."
"Want to fall asleep to bad romantic comedies with me?"
"...k."

Every. Single. Time.

In non-Saturday news: lots of love and thanks to Pat and Dave C., who have struck yet again: waiting in my school mailbox for me on Friday was a carepackage full of delicious Starbucks treats!

My homie Shanice modeling my Starbucks- themed carepackage