Fat Asian Baby

Well kids, yesterday marked the first official day of the spring semester. I think what is most alarming here is not the ungodly number of credits I've decided to pursue, or the fact that now I'm going to have to start spending money on books and school supplies again, or the fact that there was an assignment due for today's first class that I, of course, have not done, but rather that yesterday also signalled the arrival of next month's Vogue and W magazines* while last month's still sit fornlornly on the floor beside my bed somwhere between the "to clean or rehang" pile of clothing and the "to do something with" pile of miscellaneous papers with the words "important" "tax" and "papers" printed somewhere on them in bold black letters that I've been collecting. The magazines remain unopened, unread. I can't shake this sense of impending doom. If I don't take the situation by it's ears this weekend, it's only going to be a matter of time before I find myself buried beneath 3.2 tons of unread magazines (mostly Vogue) and vaguely important tax papers with no hope of ever recovering.
*For some reason I've been able to keep apace with Newsweek. They are neatly piled behind my filing cabinet, thank you very much. Vogue is a menace of its own kind.