I don't know why...

...I think I'll keep up this blog, when every journal I've ever started lies half-finished somewhere in storage. Well, I did fill up the pink one with the Izod alligator I got as a graduation gift from my friend formerly known as Muffy (okay, we were overly fond of the preppy handbook, something that actually constituted resistance in our working-class suburb in 1981). That pink journal is filled with a lot of drunken ramblings from my first few years of college, and no, I won't be sharing those with you. Stay tuned for the movie, which will deftly weave my journal and the letters I received from another high school friend attending a different college.

Where was I? Procrastination and tangents. *That's* what I shoulda called this blog! Instead, I've named it after my inner adolescent, a chubby girl with a retainer who, yes, played the tuba. And yes, some called me "Tuba Sue." A few years earlier, I would have raged and attempted to do bodily harm to those some. But in 9th grade, I learned the joys of sublimation. I'm not sure what I sublimated all that anger in (or with, or through, or under, whatever)...Christianity? My mother used to refer to those as my prig years. But that, and my mother, are stories for another day.

Instead, let me list the things I ought to be doing right this minute:
1. Preparing for job interviews at MLA.
2. Writing my dissertation.
3. Grading student writing.
4. Working out.
5. Washing the dog.
6. Cleaning the house.
7. Doing laundry.
8. Meditating.
9. Calculating how long it will take me to get from one hotel to the other at MLA.
10. Sending flowers to my grandmother, undergoing surgery in Arizona.
11. Finishing preparing the walls in the spare room for painting.
12. Creating a shadowbox display for my floatie pens.
13. Being a better human being.
14. Scheduling an appointment with my therapist.
15. Walking the dog.