Occasionally I find the need to say something, like, I'm not dead. It's just the end of the semester. You know. The good news is that in a week I will be able to write words of my own choosing, read books of my own choosing, sweep the dog hair out of the corner behind the Victola, plant a few things. The bad news is I'll be away from the writers and their voices. What is a girl to do? Complain, I guess. How about you?