Reading week is officially over.

And I'm already knackered. Although that may have had something to do with late-night Othello-watching and essay-writing. Maybe.

Bah. One and a half hours is not a long enough break between classes to walk home, have a nap and walk to the next class, so, as you can see, I am instead slumped at my desk staring mindlessly at the internet. I say this like it's any different to any other day. On the plus side, I have pretty nails. My nail-painting has become slightly obsessive, for I know that if I don't paint them, then I will bite them, but my inability to sit still means that any nail varnish that lasts more than a day before it is picked off should consider itself very lucky. The one thing that this picture does not accurately display (aside from the fact that it's a mirror image, so technically isn't displaying anything accurately) is that the purpley-looking nail polish is sparkly, and the blue nail polish glows in the dark. Yeah. I know. I'm so cool it hurts. Oh, wait. No. Sorry. I'm so tired it hurts. That makes much more sense.
In other news, I'm currently obsessed with this song...

... and this tv programme...

 Dylan Moran has been fuelling my procrastination over the past few days, and for that, I thank him.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to drag myself all the way back to Southam (ok, so it's a 10/15min walk, but still...) and listen to my Brit Lit professor ramble about Keats, why students shouldn't have jobs and how none of us has any prospects in life. And his wife. Oh joy.