I have been deep under the water of FINALS for what feels like years but is actually only something like two weeks. And here I am, on a grey and windy Sunday morning in December, delivered to a place that is nearly on the other side– one paper stands between me and the end and I am blinking, bleary, hardly remembering going to bed in the middle of the night after finishing the grading of 35 underwhelming Survey of Western Art exams, graced by the company of the cyclists who rode far far far yesterday (Kat, Blumsauce, Jake), and the picklers who joined the party for dinner and preservation (Roy, Tyler). I am lucky and loved to have friends who do the dishes and buy us forks and spoons and bearded companions who sort exams into alphabetical order and feed the Chupacabra when I forget.
Speaking of which: we’ve been having Olive-heavy posts lately, but who can stop now? (We will return to your regular cat programming tomorrow.)