blaaaaaaah
I spent all day reading or wishing I was reading Diane Duane's The Empty Chair and I feel weirdly depressed and empty now that I have finished it. It was the end of a series, which might go a ways toward explaining the feeling, but still. And the book & series were good, so it's not like I was disappointed by them- I'm just sad there isn't more.
Blaaaah, I suspect that reading the series was an escape from all the math and physics stuff I have to do this weekend, and also all that researching-local-museum-ish-internships and making-up-a-resume that I have to do by the 21st. Now I have to think about those things. Do not want.
Blaaaah, I suspect that reading the series was an escape from all the math and physics stuff I have to do this weekend, and also all that researching-local-museum-ish-internships and making-up-a-resume that I have to do by the 21st. Now I have to think about those things. Do not want.