Your fleet has lost. And your friends on the Endor moon will not survive. There is no escape, my young apprentice. The Alliance will die...as will your friends.
- Emperor Palpatine, Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi.
Things always seem darkest right before the Death Star blows up. I'm supposed to run 26.2 miles on Sunday, and I'm trying to be well-rested for it. In the week leading up to the race, though, I have enough deliverables due at work to force multiple all-nighters; I'm completely stressed-out; I'm starting to cough; it's going to be quite a bit warmer (disclaimer: This is my blog, and so perfect temperatures are the 30s and low 40s) than I planned for; and yes, I'm undertrained by any respected training plan.
The Death Star is fully operational, leaving the Rebel Alliance outnumbered and outgunned.
It doesn't matter. There's always a way out. I'm not sure in this analogy what is the vulnerable exhaust vent, but I'll find it.
Boom.
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