Of one thing I'm certain: I rock you hardcore.

My presentation went really well this morning. I'd banked on my ability to bullshit my way through the numbers (I am, after all, getting a B.S. instead of a B.A.) and thus not really given the material a good once-over before I arrived to meet my group. My contribution to the project (we had to design an IMC for a high-priced child safety seat) was to summarize the Creative Brief and our Objectives/Strategies. I did so, injecting the explanations with polysyllabic words and enthusiastic hand gestures.

When my group sat down, the prof made it a point to recognize my "passion" for the material, lauding the way I was able to snap the room back to life. "You could all take a lesson from Kate," he said, "that kind of enthusiasm is what this business is all about."

Bangarang. I talked to mum after I got home and told her that I was considering doing Communications when/if I went to grad school. She thought that was a fantastic idea. Forget this number crunching stuff, I've no head for it; give me a room full of clients with deep pockets and a PowerPoint presentation and I'll convince Ethiopians to go on the South Beach diet.

All I've left to tackle this week is my Media Economics final tomorrow, which I'll begin studying for after the euphoria of my own ego-stroking has worn off.

And at least three people have told me that I look pretty today. Which, you know, never hurts a woman's self-esteem.

You may lay offerings of roses and Blackadder DVDs at my feet. I won't mind.