Happy birthday to crisavec, gaelfling, goblindegook, mendoza, and minsies!
Must... Control... Fist... of... Death...
I hate commencement with the fire of a thousand suns. Seriously. I hate people - and come commencement, the campus is just riddled with them. Like swarming cockroaches.
The webmail went down again yesterday. It's back today - still with none of my saved stuff, but I can receive new stuff at the moment. Just in case, don't e-mail me there; use shadesong AT livejournal.com, which is currently going to a different e-mail address.
raptorgirl! Please send your flight info to that address. That was one of the more pressing bits of information that I've lost.
Night before last, I dreamed that I was at a party and suddenly came face-to-face with someone who... well, it's pretty much up to me whether the person is going to continue to be my friend. Which is a position of power that I'm not necessarily comfortable with.
I woke up before I decided whether I should hug him hello.
I need to relax and breathe. I need to stop decorating and planning the move in my mind. I definitely need to start going through our mounds of Stuff and making piles to give away, keep, or throw away. That's a good thing to do whether or not we're moving.
State of the 'song
Tiiiired. Also severely headachey. I go now in search of Excedrin.