I'm in one of those moods where I want to eat a big bag of m&m's and wash it down with a Diet Coke. I want to put on my family tiara (yes, it's a cherished family heirloom, from the 50's when expensive jewelry stores sold that sort of thing, that dad bought mum when they were in the broke grad school portion of the relationship), wrap myself in a fur blanket, and demand that someone bring me the head of the director of a certain English department graduate program on a silver platter. I want to go to the mall and buy a new purse and some perfume, even though I'm trying to pay off the credit cards. I want two orders of those evil cream cheese-filled crab rangoons from the corner Chinese restaurant. Somebody give me a fancy pedicure and an hour long massage, followed by a platter of sushi and some nice white wine. So there.

"I'll have a steak sandwich, a bloody mary, and...a steak sandwich."