It didn't occur to me until I was getting ready for bed last night (this morning?): I have a lot of cat paraphenalia in my room. Not a la Dennis Finch of course, but it's there.

I think my love of cats is definitely appropriate. I'm a little like a cat. I like knowing that people love me and care about me, but I tend to want displays of affection on my own time, on my own terms. I love being around people, but when I want my space I have to have my space!

For cats, we call that being fickle. I wonder if there's a nicer way to put that when discussing similar qualities in people?

I'm even more stuffed up today. Crap. I can't be sick. I don't have the time to be sick. I don't even have the time to run on over to campus to watch an hour of the Paradiso section of Bruce Elder's Dante film! If I lived closer to campus, it wouldn't be so much of a problem. Time spent in transit takes time away from my work, too. And that's extra time I can't afford to relinquish.

If I don't write again for a few days, don't be surprised. I won't be.