Excusez-moi, je suis sick as a dog.

Item one. I went grocery shopping tonight with my roommate. My list read something to the effect of "milk, OJ, lightbulbs, ground beef (for Sven), anything qualifying as real food." I came home with three boxes of yellow rice, two cans of green beans, an onion, four limes, a green pepper, and (wait for it) two large chocolate bars, two faux cheesecake mixes (no one tell my mother), cake mix, and frosting. So much for that real food. Note to self: Don't attempt grocery shopping when doped up on cold medication.

Item two: I seem to have initiated some major soul searching. Or at least some form of contemplation. My deepest apologies. But I keep thinking about this, the whole compartment idea, which has somehow flip-flopped from labeling others to labeling ourselves. The fact is, I have some pretty thick walls. And I maintain those walls by maintaining my compartments: the student, the older sister, the editor, etc. The problem is, my worlds keep colliding. (Mixing metaphors. Excuse me.) I'm with my friends when my little sister comes over. Or I'm in editor mode when I need to be a student. Separate worlds are, or at least they were, effective. But they're too difficult to maintain. So I find myself saying bizarre things at work and workshopping poems from a "Can I publish this?" point of view. Now the question about this blog: Can I publish it? We shall see.