I'm possibly less than 24 hours away from finding out if I have a job offer, though it'll probably be more like 48. Or possibly seventeen years. Whatever. From now until whenever it is I'm basically just one giant jiggling collection of nerves. Luckily I discovered that scribblinlenore has a collection of--well, a few dozen, but they appear multiplied in my desperate eyes by about a thousand--a few thousand Smallville stories I haven't yet read. How is that possible? I don't know. But they're here.
There is no mood icon for my current mood. It involves anxiety, chicken, porn, the sound of water running through pipes, an airplane landing, and the absence of cats.