Imperfect Tense, The Post Office, and Coffee.

Everyone, everyone! I'm back! It's okay, guys, I know you were beside yourselves with worry because I did not post anything last night, but they didn't catch me. My unicorns are safe. And the mermaids are back in the pond. *phew*
So, whatchoo 'orrible lot been up to of late? I, myself, have been experiencing the woes and considerable stress of mountainous piles of homework. I may gouge my eyes out so I have an excuse when my Latin tutor asks why my recital of the imperfect tense of irregular verbs is a bit shakey still. Sounds like a plan, no?
Ach. I think the lady in the post office hates me. *twitch* It's probably because every two weeks I have her filling out customs paperwork. "Where to, love?" "America." "Oh, okay..." *panic attack*
Poor woman. Meh. She's getting paid for it. Make the wench work, is what I say.
God save the Queen. Long live Bollywood.
A nugget of wisdom: The best men are like coffee: rich, warm, and keep you up all night.
-Daphne.