Oh, I just realised that it’s Benedict Cumberbatch’s birthday. Does this mean I can celebrate by staring at his face. All day. Because clearly staring at Cumberbatch’s hammerhead-shark-esque visage is more important than writing a paper or studying for an exam. Maybe I could watch To the Ends of the Earth for the 300th time, or watch Sherlock for the 1000th time.
I think it would be nice if his birthday were an international holiday — because he is a fabulous actor, sure, but mostly because I don’t want to do any work today.