i am most cross, and most crossed in books. when a person conciles her stomach to stale bread, and turns out every pocket lining, and rattles hopeful jars, she does not like to find that harvard bookstore hasn't yet received the newest pratchett. (next week, they say. they did have the wit and wisdom on discworld on the shelves when i went in, but i didn't like the book design, and besides i've already collected all the germane witticisms about not doing work for myself.) just as well, just as well. i have a moratorium to keep, and miles to go before i sleep.