(no subject)

Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear...

...MY CONTAINER!!!!!!!!

*shrieks and runs in circles* Oh why oh why oh why oh why oh WHY did you do this to me?!

You WILL work, you'll see, I'll just spend the next twelve hours or so and fix you up so prettily with a lovely dab of scupley baked to fill your hateful gap where you melted apart after seven or eight hours of soldering. All this time will NOT go to waste. Besides, you're due tomorrow, so would you please, for the LOVE, work with me here! Just some painless filing and sanding and a wee bit more soldering on a different section. That's all I ask. Oh yeah, and holes drilled to add little bells. Which will go smoothly and quietly without any fuss. Right? Right.

*coughs*

I think I breathed in too much brass dust. It can't be good for my lungs.

And for the record, brass dust+sweaty hands=hands that are a grey-green color and look very, very dead.

(no subject)

Thank God Bev's around. She is the most helpfullest prof I've ever ever had. In other words, the container is fixed! But my hands feel like they're shrivelling up.

The word of the day is: Censorious.