It's 3:15 in the morning and I'm in my dorm room instead of at the newspaper office. Why? Because I'm not the editor any more. I haven't been in damn near a year. But every week, I feel the burden of the paper get placed on my shoulders... And I'm tired of it. Part of me feels bad about it... but part of me knows its a neccessary evil. The rest of me thinks I should shut up and write a "real" journal entry about it all later.
Hmm... I think I'll listen to the rest of me for now.
The roommate is nasty sick. Well, not nasty sick. He's not puking or anything. But he can't breathe. He spends much of his night coughing and sniffing. And he came in this afternoon (looking much worse, I might add) and annouced that he was going to use no medical aids to beat this. Eck. This, of course, means that I need to go stock up on OJ and other healthy stuff so that he doesn't spread the love.