Where is my motivation? Focus, damnit, focus!
It's moments like this when I just want to grab Matt, throw caution to the wind, and take to the road - live off our risky interest or rob our way across the continent with nothing but a car, a bag of clothes, a laptop, and a terrified cat. We'd pull over on bridges to spit off the side, and get dressed in our finest vintage to gatecrash parties in unknown hip cities. When his left arm burned, I'd take over driving duties until his skin evened out or a cop ticketed me for speeding. We'd cut our hair with breadknives in the sinks of cheap motel rooms and smash Goya bottles on rocks in the middle of the desert. In winter we'd drive down, and in summer we'd drive up, and in the middle we'd find a microphone and record a album.
I should get back to studying.
P.S. Wow, I had no idea .htaccess files were so easy. Finally I can do something about all the spam referrers clogging up my stats page. Among other things.