No, seriously. Remember that line in Mean Girls about girls who eat their feelings? That line was a single-sentence biography of my life. Well, not 'feelings'- just stress. So I'm walking home with that wild-eyed nothingness stare particular to PhD students and trainspotters, and I anticipate the mid-evening lag. The terribly sad moment when I realise I need something sweet to help me feel human again and no sweet something is to be found so I end up sucking a teaspoon of caster sugar to keep body and soul together. ("That was like one time!")
So, yes, I bought me some baklava. And I loved it. You know what else I loved? Finishing the latest edit of my article which came back from blind peer review on Sunday and needed some more dusting, some tweaking and, oh, about twenty-four more consecutive hours of work.
I totes slept for about two of those hours.
So I guess what I'm trying to say is that at this point in the mid-year marathon (also known as conference season also known as the two months where everything happens at once every year) it's the little things that help me get through the day, like sucking rosewater syrup off my fingers and coming across more pictures of my fashcrush Taylor Tomasi Hill. It makes me happy to know that somewhere in the world she is laughing with neon fingernails. ("Once she punched me in the face? It was awesome.")
DISCLAIMER: Am not really that stressed, guys. Certainly not as stressed as, say, when I had to write a 5000 word essay in one day- that shiz was stressful. I'm just on a skintight deadline for the next month or so.
So don't you worry, now.