Moonless Night

I procrastinate.

Shamelessly.

This post that I am typing that you are reading should be words on my essays for fellowship applications, or emails to people asking their help to get me a cool job. I even cleaned my room. Sort of. I picked up all the clothes off of my floor and categorized them into a). clean b). not clean c). not clean, but not beloved enough to clean. So my room is a little less shameless. Yay me!, I say.