... But I am weak, and bought a number of imps on bpalmarketplace anyway. Because I never give up hope. Thankfully, imps are not very space or money-consuming when you don't buy eleventybillion of them. And I didn't. So there. Might try to review them later. Have noticed a disturbing habit of all BPAL scents smelling very similar to my nose, but a couple I just got really stand out, so.
Mom made the most delicious spinach mushroom enchiladas to ever grace our kitchen. OMGSOTASTY. I would happily live off these things.
I made these today. They're tasty, kind of shortbread-y, and not super-sweet. They're also vegan, so I'ma bring them to Poetry tomorrow for the class. Allen-Michael is vegan, and I wouldn't want to bring tasties he couldn't consume.
Speaking of Poetry, I have to decide what to read. I'm the last person, and the only one who's going to workshop tomorrow. Everyone else who reads is just reading (though knowing us, we'll start up the critiques anyway). Decisions, decisions.
Went to school today only to discover that the Economic Development final I'd been dreading was declared a take-home test in an email this past Thursday.
An email I never got.
So now I've got until 6 PM tomorrow to get it done. I've also got to put together my formula sheet for Marketing Research and turn that in by 5. And I need to somehow work in a visit to the Screenwriting professor and get him to sign off on my taking his class some time between 10:45 and 2-ish. Also, my poetry final is at 5:30, and I have a study group meeting at 6:30. This is going to be an odd schedule. Probably involving a lot of time spent in the computer lab. Sometimes, I wish I had a laptop.
Speaking of the Screenwriting prof, I think I will like him. I sent him an email today that was far sillier than my normal I-don't-know-you-professor tone, probably due to the massive quantities of caffeine I'd consumed an hour before.
It went something like this:
I was hoping to enroll in your fall '07 Screenwriting course, and I need your permission to do so. I can drop by whenever it is most convenient for you, but I do not know your office hours (or, indeed, where your office is at all. Or if you have an office. Or if you truly exist outside of myth, legend, story, and song - I am a business major, and thus I don't wander into the drama department often. Or ever, really).
I apologize for contacting you so late in the semester, but my decision to enroll in a Creative Writing minor wasn't finalized until this past week**.
He responded thusly:
I do not exist, only my shadow resides in on office on a cloud.
You may visit me tomorrow in blah blah blah. After 12:00, come to the drama
department in upper Jones where I will be administering an unfair and
baffling final exam.
I love it when they sass back. :D
Am not near as worried about my finals as I should be. The only one I still need to really prepare for is Finance. It's only over two chapters, though, so here's hoping.
*Seriously - one of the reasons I'm not so big on receiving flowers? All flowers smell like cut grass to me. The one exception is honeysuckle, but you don't really see bouquets of that. Give me a bouquet of delicious fresh herbs, now, and I might just have to marry you.
**However, there are few things more embarrassing than realizing that the first impression email you just sent off to your future professor has two stupid-looking spelling errors due to mistypings and hand shakiness. I corrected them here, but D'OH.