I'm sorry you want to kill me

Thus said my husband during the usual lunchtime work/home tradeoff when he saw my cool new hori hori knife (complete with bunny sheath) on the kitchen counter.

The knife was my 'I survived the final last night' present to myself to keep me from moping around today. My brain simply shuts off at 9 pm regardless of how much caffeine it gets. This was evident by my rambly essay that dragged on until 10 pm, took up the entire blue book, but wasn't all that concise. I'm not certain if screwing up that but doing fairly well on the objective section is enough to dock my grade, or if the prof will let it slide since everything else I've done was stellar. Bleh. Too brain dead to care.

Stabbing thickly rooted grass out from around the boulders in our rock garden & picking off dandelions to die was wonderfully cathartic. It was tempting to call in a mental health day and continue the carnage, but I'll have enough of those on vacation soon enough.