I'm sure there will be times in the near future when I won't want to be quoted on this, but right now... I like school! My brain feels nice and limber. I could go on (Walt Whitman, anyone?) but I will spare you.
In other news, I brought a houseplant inside because it's starting to get cold, and a few hours later I found five snails on the carpet a couple inches from the pot, all pointing in slightly different versions of "toward the door." Five snails in my bedroom! I still can't decide if it was cute or gross, but anyway, I gave them a ride back outside on a copy of The New Yorker.
2 comments:
"I don't care if she is a tape dispenser. I love her."
I'm glad grad school's treating you right. Loving Whitman's a sure sign of health. Whatever secret fears might have been gnawing on the fresh leaves of your intellectual curiosity, sound like they're crawling "toward the door."
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