It wasn’t a Murph
After stressing out for a few weeks about my first Q, it’s now Monday. I ping Peeping Tom, my cousin who EH’d me one year ago, to get some feedback on my plan. Grief is delivered, something about how I’m asking him about this the day before I’m supposed to Q. I attempt to correct him, stating I’m fine, I’ll have all day Tuesday to nail things down. Additional grief is exchanged about how I’ve actually only got 10 hours before the Q.
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