According to my (thankfully, faulty) Google calendar next meeting alert, I have real analysis in thirty-six hours. Even though it's actually in nine days, I should probably be feeling a little less throw-all-caution-to-the-wind excited and a little more this-is-gonna-be-effing-HARD intimidated about the whole graduate school gambit.
But I feel too good, and this whole crazy-perfect thing feels too right for preemptive worries.
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