Bringing you the sincerest form of flattery on a semi-regular basis.

I was going to clean my room tonight after coming back from sushi, I really was. But then I watched Clone High at Dan's suggestion, and then spent some time talking to the younger sibling about the parents' birthday's coming up (we've decided our mom needs a subscription to Netflix), and then looked around at the room, which currently has two modes (namely "getting to the bathroom door" mode, and "getting in and out of the room" mode), because there's just too much stuff lying around to move about even semi-comfortably.

And I thought to myself, "why would I clean this, when I could do what Jen did, and write a blog entry about the mess instead?" And then I realized I was rationalizing again, because Jen's room is always, in comparison to mine, impeccable. Which is not to say that it's actually impeccably clean, but rather that she has roommates, and so unlike me can't allow things to get to the point where the random accumulations of dorm life take on lives of their own, growing slowly into amorphous blobs of junk that every so often, out of the corner of one's eye, can be seen feeding on old organic chemistry lab notes. "Nevertheless," I said to myself, "Perhaps if I write out all the crap I've got sitting around here, I'll find the motivation to get rid of some of it." And so it begins.