Restlessness

I am getting sick, that slow dragging sense in the back of my throat screaming at me to stop drinking and smoking. I've told that part of my body to buck up, given it some fruit and water, vitamin C and echinacea. This week is the election (beer to either celebrate or commiserate) and a trip to Foufounes to pretend to be hardcore. Not to mention my trip this weekend, so I have to be in good health.

My phone rang a few minutes ago, expecting Roomie I was less-than-shocked to hear Curly. Opinions among my friends vary, and frankly I am inclined to listen to Jonah (ever-wise, Jonah and I had a lovely evening last night, and he is a good sounding board for man-related things). Anyways, Jonah is a proponent of the 'two file' model, that Curly has two files on me, and whichever seems viable will be left open. Fine by me. Roomie is moving into unfamiliar territory and I can't bear to let myself get sucked in after him.

Right now I have three papers on the go, one research, one long and tedious, one silly excuse for a paper that will take ten hours tops. Not to mention some overhanging obligations. Off to JSTOR