Conspirators.

Right now, there are so many things I should be doing; Anthropology paper, First Year Experience paper/presentation, or the Biology lab write-up, and pre-lab.  All of them are due tomorrow.  All of the require intense concentration.

All I wanna do?  Turn the lights off, except for the soft glow of my desk lamp, curl up under my white blanket, drink some hot tea, and read until sweet Morpheus claims me and takes me as his bride.

I just found this.  It seems like my cloud blanket, book, and bed are conspiring against me.

Damn it.

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