This is Not a Freak-Out

So, I'm sitting in Thieves again, trying to write the remainder of my endless, deliriously-written paper on queens and corpses and tombs and Pygmalion and--HOLY SHIT WHAT AM I EVEN WRITING RIGHT NOW.

But I'm not really writing, because there are two women sitting across the shop from me, and one of them has - and I mean this without any hyperbole - the cutest fucking baby I have ever seen. She's a girl, somewhere between 0 months and 3 years old (I don't know how to gauge baby age). But she's tiny. And happy. And she basically just sits there and smiles and flails her arms about and squeaks. And every once in a while - and this is the best part - her mom hands her a Cheerio out of a bag, which she grabs with both hands and nibbles on very slowly, like a squirrel. It's just plain awesome. But I'm starting to creep out the mother, so I think I'll just pay closer attention to writing this. Cute damn kid, though.

On an unrelated (or is it related? I don't know anymore) note, we're under the two-week mark. As in, two weeks from now, I'll be on a plane careening over Colombia. That thought is giving me increasing horror, as my Big-Ass To-Do List still has pretty much everything on it. And another student just asked me to write him a recommendation. Crap crap crap crap fuck crap fuck fuck crap balls crap nutter butters. (Hello, working at home. My parents are going to kill me for being buried in my books for my first several days back in CT.) Oh, well. I guess it can't be helped.

Well, I'm going to go try to re-center my chi by watching the squirrel-baby some more. Creepiness be damned.