Pesto = crack

I finally broke down at the grocery store last week and bought a package of (overpriced) basil and made pesto last night. Pesto is the primary reason that I own a small food-processor. I can hardly wait to eat pesto on sandwiches, and to use it to do all sorts of other delicious things. Pesto is also the reason I'm growing basil. I'm not sure I could keep any other herb or vegetable alive, but I start to salivate a little every single morning when I water my basil plants. I have also taken to looking at the plants in terms of the total volume of pesto they could produce at a given stage of life (so far, not enough to justify killing them).

It's funny to look at the plants and consider how much time and effort I have spent on my basil plants. I am constantly questioning my decision to grow my own food, because it seems relatively labor-intensive for the amount of produce that will result. But I'm hoping that I'll be able to get this basil to grow until it goes to seed, and to thus ensure a long-lasting supply of basil. Because yes, pesto is like crack.

I feel like a real grownup now. (plus miscellany)

Well, based on the financial advice of the people I trust the mostest about such things, I have opened a CD account. I might not be rich as a grad student, but I'm certainly not poor either.

I'm not sure if it's this experiment, life in general, the time of year, or the fact that I stayed up a bit late that made me wake up in a foul mood this morning. My mood was foul enough that I decided to skip rowing. I'm not sure what I need to do to recover from this irksome state, but for now I'm crossing my fingers that it goes away on its own. After waking up, I proceeded to lie in bed and think about all of the things I want to do and all of the things I need to do and all of the things I plan to do. I am forever a perpetual list-writer.

Last night I went to the fabric store with L, which was a nice expedition. It was strange to walk around and think about the types of personalities that such stores are designed to appeal to. I saw a few too many aisles full of semi-cute, semi-crappy plant stands and decorative hooks and garden baubles. I bought a mini-cupcake pan and some pieces of styrofoam and a container to store thread. And some bobbins.

L said she struggles with some of the same things I struggle with in grad school--we're good at figuring out how to spend our time in a given week, but it's much harder for us to think further ahead and to juggle more than one project at a time. It's kind of reassuring to know that other people have the same sorts of problems, even when we aren't sure how to resolve them.

Well, time to go back to counting leaves to feed to ants. Yes, my life is just that exciting.