I can't wait until March 4, 2056.
All I want to do is write 3/4/56. Of course, if I'm in some other part of the world, I'll have to wait until April.
My professor smells like old books.
It's only today that I've identified the smell. I want to follow her around all day and just sniff her hair.
There are three police cruisers sitting outside of my house, lights flashing.
It looks like an Israeli security check point out there, all for a little fender bender.
Kind of a lame post, but it's March and I need to make some damn lists.