I smiled at him and drooped over again, less than fully conscious, my face on his shoulder. He twitched his shoulder to dislodge me; I slid slowly down his arm and ended up face-down on the table again.
Slept through most of accounting, then wandered into English lab and greeted Goff with the Bloodhound gang quote. I contemplated talking about the square root of green as well, but decided against it.
Came home to find that Dude and Neighbor had decided to do quite a bit of demolition work to the remains of my stew. I received compliments.
And Darkside doesn't think I can cook. He doesn't think I'd let him sleep if he were that tired, either. (How little he knows me.) I guess he's never seen my nurturing side, only the silly and evil parts of me. I'm shy about letting my good side out.