I don't understand viscosity or the many and varied idiosyncrasies therein. This would not be a problem, if only I wasn't five months away from the exam that will supposedly decide my entire life. Fuck fate and destiny, A/Levels are what's gonna kill ya.
So I do what I usually do when I'm depressed as all fuck: I stare at pretty pictures.
(brought to my attention by
jonjokeat, whom I had to, like, be a firefighter in a past life to deserve)
And Martin Freeman's irritatingly adorable face helps, too:
There we are. Much better.
Happy February, everyone!