Oops. Didn't mean to spend an hour and a half talking to Joodles in the middle of the night that would be on his part more prudently spent sleeping. I picked him up from his scheduled debauchery in the Village to take him home so he could get up tomorrow for his ludicrous archi workload but accidentally had a conversation about life and Lacanian obscurity and Myers-Briggsness and the gradual realization that we are not necessarily who we imagine ourselves to be.
At least I get to sleep in. He's going to have an unpleasant morning.
At least I get to sleep in. He's going to have an unpleasant morning.