In the past two days, I have managed to not eat a SINGLE thing that I had prepared for myself. And its getting a little ridiculous. I think I have OD'd on Clif bars. Except for the lemon poppyseed ones. (and boy howdy...those things are GOOD.) In fact, they are so good, that I walked into whole foods the other day, bought 4 or 5 of them, and got a weird look from the cashier. What?! I gotta eat! That probably wasn't as weird as last night, though...when I ordered a coffee and a side of steamed vegetables from the take-out counter at Jerry's. This is L.A. What is so hard to understand about the fact that *some* people like coffee? And also like vegetables? With nothing on them but...er...steam? And that *sometimes,* like when they're in the middle of writing a bunch of stuff, they don't have time to stay at home and chop broccoli, carrots, and cauliflower by themselves?

Hmm. Well at least my current paper is going okay. :::knocks on wood::: And by okay I mean that I spent 3 1/2 hours at Jerry's last night thoroughly convinced that I was BRILLIANT. Only a paragraph in, I could already see the flawless paper, turned back to me in my box, untouched by the professor's red pen except for the many plus marks after the "A" he placed on its last page, and the note, begging me- pleading with me!- to publish it instantly. I'm still happy with it so far, but by now I've at least returned to Earth. We'll see how I feel after tonight...that's about when I expect the common paper-induced self-loathing to occur. Until then, I think I'll relax for a moment and try to think up a good title.

Right now I'm stuck with "There's No Jelly Donut Behind the Window, Little Redburn- Only Another Bildungsroman."