finals. final final finals. its 4:34 am and im a few miles away from the dark, dank, sweaty, hollow, cement hallways of the powerless dormitories dotted with fumbling students staring into the crawling abyss with gaping pupils. tonight's all about laying face down on a motel bed listening to lucy fidget. every student is restless after the storm and before the storm that slides along above the hours, tearing attention and raining espresso. 78% chance of jitters and the inability to hold your pen still once the signal is given. 98% chance that i'll fall asleep mid-sentence now that lucy's stopped fighting the grade nightmares and the family guy background noise has been rubbed out by the ac unit. 2% chance i was wrong. oh well, that just goes to show you....