Today has been going much less well than yesterday, so far. I woke up from a stress dream involving my entire family being stranded at a bus station in podunk, Tennessee, only to find that I'd slept through my alarm and only had 20 minutes to get ready for class. Which I did. Got to class on time, even, at least according to my watch, but it doesn't matter how punctual I am, that class is always already in session by the time I get there. At any rate. The entire class is in agreement that Auguste Comte was whackadoo. Just so's you know.

I know what writing samples I want to submit to that magazine, but I can't find my contributor's copy of the one magazine in which I'm published. I used to have it on display over my desk, along with the little note that came attached saying, "You Are Published!!!" but Niblet knocked it off the wall and I didn't bother to hang it back up and now I have no clue what I did with it. I suppose it's not that big a deal since the article itself is saved on my web site, but an actual tear sheet from the magazine would sure look a lot more professional. Sigh. Guess this means I'm gonna have to brave my junk closet.

In spite of all this, I'm still in a decent mood, because it's Tuesday, and the first Tuesday of sweeps at that. Which means not just new Buffy, but important, "this is so good we had to save it for sweeps" Buffy. Squee!