in which I am entirely predictable
After an eleven and a half hour day of work, which I pushed myself through with the sheer force of my will, inexplicably exhausted and vaguely miserable and wanting nothing more than for it to still be Sunday, oh glorious Sunday, day of unwashed hair and cuddle-time with my old AmeriCorps hoodie, I got to finally come home and lo! there were today's Luke/Noah clips, and it was like a whole MONTH of Sundays, and sunshine and kittens and rainbows, oh my god, they are so completely and unreservedly adorable and everything in my world is now right and good and happy again.
Anyway, um, yesterday I might have pre-ordered the deluxe edition of the new Panic album? I justified it to myself with the resolution to work the extra two hours this week it'll take to cover the cost. Which is a pretty easy justification really. And I have never ever claimed NOT to have a completely obsessive personality, okay? And I would just as happily done the same if it were a new MCR or FOB album coming out, it just happens to be Panic that's doing it first after my wholesale seduction into the six degrees of Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, oh my god even his NAME is completely ridiculous. Why can't I be a mature, serious, thoughtful person who gets all caught up in, I don't know, current events and opera and public television? Really, why? Why instead am I eternally fifteen years old? I fear I will never have a satisfying answer to this most pressing question.
Anyway, um, yesterday I might have pre-ordered the deluxe edition of the new Panic album? I justified it to myself with the resolution to work the extra two hours this week it'll take to cover the cost. Which is a pretty easy justification really. And I have never ever claimed NOT to have a completely obsessive personality, okay? And I would just as happily done the same if it were a new MCR or FOB album coming out, it just happens to be Panic that's doing it first after my wholesale seduction into the six degrees of Peter Lewis Kingston Wentz III, oh my god even his NAME is completely ridiculous. Why can't I be a mature, serious, thoughtful person who gets all caught up in, I don't know, current events and opera and public television? Really, why? Why instead am I eternally fifteen years old? I fear I will never have a satisfying answer to this most pressing question.
