Huh. I wonder how many other psych majors have written a poem about Milgram.

Other than that, I'm not getting anything done tonight at all. I meant to do my pizza crust extravaganza, but I didn't feel like it. I didn't even cook, just reheated some soup I froze a couple of months ago. I've been spinning a little, and listening to Regina Spektor, and obviously coming up with weird poems. I should go exercise. I don't want to. But then, I haven't done anything else right tonight, so I suppose I should.