I accidentally started the long day with a jolt of caffeine that made me hyper throughout class and caused my voice to tremble when I delivered my article critique. My hands shook badly as I tried to ink my current illustration before work. This is exactly why I don't do drugs.
My hands evened themselves out after a few hours, and I huddled over my drawing in the cold A/V center all afternoon. The system was down, so I only needed to console patrons and answer phones. At one point, I jumped up to help a student and my reference photos scattered across the table in front of one of my co-workers. I was pretty sure that half-naked photographs of myself* would be against the rules, but she didn't care. Hurray for liberal university folk. I did a bit of research into starting my next Master's degree, and it looks like I'll have to wait until the fall after next to start up my art studies again, if I decide to.
After work, we had dinner at the cafe across the street. Their staff of eerily tanned kids with blonde hair are a bit slow, but they sure make good food. On the way out, Gavin swung happily from my hand, tripped, and I dropped him on his face on the pavement. I think I was more upset than he was as I wiped the blood off his lips.
*I really would prefer having different models for my drawings.
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