In Which I Am the Most Boring Person Alive

Well. You know, it's a good thing that tomorrow is another day, because today was pretty much a wash. Things accomplished:

-sleeping
-reading 1/7 of the novel that I'm supposed to be reading
-reading half of a CRAP Anne Rice book that I've read before.
-a 2-hour long bath (but in the lovely lavender bath oil, so that was quite relaxing and nice and now I smell like a flower)

Tomorrow, in contrast, MUST be a more productive and less isolated day.

On the agenda:
-take man-kitty to get his nails done (and while the people at the vet claim he's very charming, when I've tried to do it myself, let's just say that he's not so charming to me)
-bank
-gym
-pool
-meal out and movie
-and, I hope, some work. But really, I probably won't do work.

I did get work done on the paper last night, but I just don't have it in me to start writing it. This is ironic, as I just sent an uplifting email to a former student who is finishing up her first year in an MA program and who is wigging out with the typical questions, "why am I doing this to myself?" "how do I write this paper when I'm afraid it will be ripped to shreds?" "Why do I feel so lost in my program?" I think I gave her good advice, but I also think that I'm the pot that calls the kettle black, in that I still ask myself all those same questions and just as she is not writing her seminar paper I am busy not writing my conference paper. And the sad fact is that even as I didn't do crap today and I did do some quality napping, I still don't feel like doing anything really now other than crawling into bed, even though I'm not really tired. Ah well - I'll try to make it an early night tonight, and I'll try to be chipper and all of that in the morning.

Now, to respond to some emails and then to shut down computer communications for the night. Maybe I'll reread some Potter. Hmmmm.