I'll apologize first: The ceiling fan is blowing strands of hair into my face and it's distracting me and tickling my chin and driving me f'ing crazy. I've tried three times to type in some sort of pertinent paragraph but I keep veering off into descriptions of how much I love Gene Pitney or whatnot. I'm Sorry.
10 colors. 100L each. 2 layers. 1 arm that kind of hurts (is it carpel tunnel?) and 0 more music. I've turned off the thingy. I'm going to bed.
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