I really hate Napoleon. Really. You have no idea. I just spent the last three hours of my life looking at, reading about, and writing a paper on roughly 100 Napoleon-themed propaganda caricatures from the early 19th century. My brain has officially turned to mush, and Napoleon is probably looking down on me (or up, depending on where he is), dancing around like the midget he is and laughing in his pansy little pantaloons. Sound like fun? Well it shouldn't, becuase it's not. At all. I still have to do quite a heavy load of German homework as well as 25 problems for Logic, and it's 11:20 already. My turd of a roommate is at a John Legend concert with her boyfriend as an early Valentine's Day gift, while I'm sitting here with cold fingers wondering if I can magically conjur up the homework fairy, who will get all my stuff done while I sleep.

On the bright side, I got to sit next to the cute guy in my history class again today. Thanks to Facebook, I found out he's single, which, on a campus where the ratio of women to men is 3:2, is a miracle unless the guy's ugly or a jerk. It's likely nothing will come of sitting next to him, but hey, it's someone to talk to. Maybe life's looking up?