So I have two finals to go take today.
I don’t really want to go… but it’s something that I can’t really avoid.
I hate finals weeks.
Weeks, yes, because every 8 weeks that’s what we get to do.
Freak out about everything and get so cranky with stress we want to kill eachother.
Oh the joys of an 18 month program.
I’m so tired today I can’t even blink.
If I tried I think I might fall asleep on the spot.
The other night Pete and I were both lamenting the fact that we had to go home.
He said it was nice to get to hold me.
So we’re talking about going somewhere again for a night, like we did before.
Cause that was really nice.
And it just kind of made me smile.
This made him worry, because I apparently have an evil smile.
I laughed and teased him that he’ll never be not busy enough to take a weekend like we were thinking of doing this summer sometime.
But then he kind shrugged and said “Maybe someday…” and didn’t finish his sentence.
“Someday what?”- Me
“I dunno… I’ll have my own place or you’ll have yours.”- Pete
“We could stay there if we had our own places.” - Me
“Yeah. Someday.”
Someday is my new favorite word.
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