I just folded my laundry, and I realized that with the exception of my red plaid pajama pants, every article of clothing I brought with me when I left Charlottesville last Friday is either black, gray, or blue. My clothes look wonderful, all folded neatly and stacked up like that in their little piles. They look like the sort of clothes a cute girl would wear. I wouldn't mind being a cute girl.

As odd as it sounds, I think the thing that makes me happiest about going back home tomorrow is that I will no longer be stuffed full of food. I don't want to be woken up in the morning and told that there are pancakes waiting for me on the table. I don't want pancakes when I get out of bed. I want a shower when I get out of bed. Maybe a glass of juice after a while. Then I have something really small, or else I wait until lunch.

I also miss my pudding. Mmmmm... fat-free chocolate pudding. I think it tastes better because it comes in little plastic cups. And you get to peel off the little plastic-coated foil lid and lick the pudding off of it... yum. Chemicals leaching into my bloodstream. Soooodium beeeenzoate...

Or something like that.

I'm kind of tired, which I consider a minor miracle since it means I'm finally adjusting to East Coast time (having failed to adjust to West Coast time until just before I left), which is a good thing because I have to get up at 6:15 tomorrow morning. Bah. I'm going to go read in bed.

There's some Boy Meets World episode that contains a wealth of jokes about pudding. I wish I could remember them so I could use one as the title for this entry. Oh well... I lose. Maybe that's a good thing, that I don't know Boy Meets World that well.