My Dear, We're Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

So the dreaded presentation is finally over, and I don't have to put up with those two petulant Frenchies anymore. They muddled up their presentation parts, but whatever, I feel nothing but pity for them, because I got through mine just fine. They insisted on not needing any practice for their slides, and ended up 'erm' and 'ah'-ing through their speeches. Barely coherent. *shake head* And that J... fuckin' needs someone to twist off his balls for him. He doesn't deserve to have any. (yes that's how much I hate him) (you see, something else happened, but that is someone else's secret, so it's not at my liberty to divulge)

While cooking chicken just now, I burnt my little finger with splattering hot oil. Jeesh. It was all crackling-sort-of-painful just now, which I think signals a blister may be coming. Bah. Wish you were here to kiss it better... but I guess that's hardly what you want to be doing now. (your MSN one warmed my heart.)

I pray for a way through this. I wish it were easier for me, and for you. An answer will come... right? Yeah. Faith. Faith.

"So go on, baby
Make your little getaway
My pride will keep me company"
- 'I'm Gonna Find Another You', John Mayer