Fingers crossed, dude. My partner's in a similar position now, applying to jobs. I'm prepared to adapt to whatever circumstances she ends up in (being an academic makes summers easy for me like that).
But then again maybe the trick is to let the jobs fall on your lap.
God damn it I need all these North American meats.
So stupid drunk guy story time.
Apparently I had a couple skin tags on my neck that rubbed on my shirt or something. My drunken brain decided a hook blade razor blade (I use these at work) was the ideal removal tool. I "think" I cut the first one off and it went fairly smoothly. My second attempt, according to the mark on my neck sliced directly through the middle of the skin tag and about an inch and a half to two inches down my neck.
My girlfriend noticed this in horror as I was sitting in the living room with blood running down my neck. I did get it to stop bleeding so I guess I won't need stitches or anything...
You've got gators in Australia. Those are pretty good.
Crocodiles motherfucker.
Jesus fuck. You okay?
This puts my drunk stories to shame. You're a fucking animal.
Adulting is fun.
That doesn't happen to people just in college, unless there's a broader context here I'm missing.