I’m tired, grouchy, uninspired and I blame all of my problems on the towering crates of beanie babies shoved next to my desk. The sad thing is that I’ve already sold and mailed half of them. This beanie baby experience has made me vow that I will never collect something as excessive as my mother had done- never. Books I will make an exception for, but that’s because I’m a junkie. I like to justify my habit by telling myself that an English major should collect books and that I only keep those I like enough to reread or that are useful as references. However, any time you have to make a justification, you’re just lying to yourself.

I would now like to close this post with the following words:

Damn you Ebay!

I have a really strange post brewing in my mind for tomorrow. Yeah! Creativity returns!


  1. So, where was your strange, creative post that you promised? Huh? Huh?