Aurevoir, mon estomach

...Spent the last hour getting through applications for U of A and (trying to understand the complicated application process of) Concordia. The farther and farther I got, the clenchier and knottier and swishier my stomach became. I don't know if this is a good sign. Maybe it's just everything, plus this, plus that, plus them, plus the Queen of Sheba and the King of Kazoo.

Maybe it's just that, like all my fellow Aberhart-ians, I really don't know whether I am ready to do this or not. I thought it would be clearer and easier, now. Now that things have sort of a little bit changed. I guess I was wrong about that, too. 

I'm often wrong.

(But don't tell; I put on this persona of being always right. And I am. What? Always right? Of course.)

I want a wormhole for Christmas.

That, or a very, very comfortable blanket to sink into for the next three weeks or so.