Is it possible . . .

. . . to grade 31 term papers in one day?

. . . to grade said papers if one also has meetings (but not teaching) and errands to run?

. . . to still call that consultant from Fancier U and inquire about that position without a) tipping off my chair (like this phrase) that I am searching about for another job; and b) appearing woefully naive?

. . . for me to make my friend, Falstaff, get Romeo's number and then to call him without appearing to be a stalker of some sort?

. . . to be in love with Demetrius but not want to be with Demetrius and in fact want to date others, like Romeo?

. . .that Romeo is a proxy for Demetrius (remember Romeo and Demetrius share the same nonpsuedonymous name), onto whom I am projecting all of my unresolved and unresolvable feelings for Demetrius?

Some things I am wondering as I sit here with a foggy head, refusing to get into the shower (which I should have done approximately an hour ago). The foggy head is a result of one glass of red wine at dinner + Tussionex cocktail before bed. My pharmacist, whom I called last night and who--yes--knows me by name, predicted this: "No, Medusa, is not dangerous, but you will not want to be . . .how to say . . . you will not be wanting to be getting up or be doing awake things in the morning." Love my pharmacist.