Finals chic

This morning, I got breakfast in sweatpants and a trench coat.

No, it wasn't a fashion statement. It was an aesthetic response to the driving force of my life--finals. The sweatpants were easy to toss on, and the coat was still out from the night before, and when I woke up, I knew that if I didn't procure coffee within the next 30 seconds, I would fall comatose back into beed. Finals aren't quite upon me yet, but they're approaching at a rapidly alarming pace. And oh, how my look is suffering.