Sometimes I feel forty. I don't really go out, I don't party all night and sleep all day, I barely drink, and I'm in college and I don't do any drugs. Most of this is personal choice, true, but occasionally a little voice, like an inverse conscience, comes to me and says: "You'll regret being responsible in fifteen years when your hair is all gone and you have two kids! Heed my words!"
Of course, I haven't had any coffee today, either. That's probably why the inertia.
What little fiddling I did do seems to indicate I need CVS: Something broke in the script, and I'm just pushing different buttons to see if I can fix it again. Sigh, sputter.