Buried in a pile of informed consent forms, debriefing forms, lab reports, study guides, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, and a book on language death. And assholes. Did I mention assholes?
I am happy, though. Really. I'm happy. I'm in DC. I'm where it's all happening. I didn't quite have it in me to run over to the White House after they called Barack's victory, but I did run around the quad cheering. And I drank a celebratory glass of sparkling kosher grape juice during the acceptance speech.
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