I cleaned out my desk, sifted through several weeks' worth of emails and did my best to make sure nothing really important would be hard to find when I was gone. We had our final intern lunch, and then, all too quickly, ten weeks were over.

I have six weeks now until classes start. By the time they do, on Sept. 23, I'll have had over five months' break from classes. A long time for someone who's technically considered a full-time student.

Right now, I'm not really full-time anything. I'm no longer full-time/part-time intern (two part time internships piled together), I'm just loafing around for a few more weeks, trying to come up with some sort of game plan (also: some sort of money-making scheme. I am very, very, very broke and London is only gonna make me broker—which shouldn't even be possible, since "broker" isn't a word in that sense, but in this case, I think I will be).

I walked away from the office feeling strangely unhinged. I don't have any place in paricular to be tomorrow and for the first time in a while, there is really nothing that should be stressing me out (except, of course, my anorexic bank account).

I spent my first day off coming up with a list of ways to make money without actually having a job (medical study participant, eBay, scratch tickets, selling my eggs...). Then I made a list of places to apply (the restaraunt across the street, the movie theater, the Bed, Bath, n' Beyond...). Then I stared rehearsing how the conversation where I ask my dad for money would go ("One month's rent in your mid-life-crisis-induced condo would more than cover me...").

Right. So. I'm currently thinking that spending 9-10 days in a lab for a sleep study that pays over $2,000 isn't so bad. Technically, I have the time to spare. I'm not sure though—I've never actually experienced torture, but I have a feeling this is what they do to spies they catch and such. We'll see though.