In case you were wondering, that's what I've been up to these long, dark days of early December.
I'd forgotten, over my two year break from studenthood, how much I hate end-of-semester madness. You know, the feeling that you've worked your ass off all day and still have a grocery list of things to do. That centrifugal force has riveted you to the bed after you've drifted off, drooling on a book you were "reading." That you have so many ideas in your head that you will certainly explode or at least pass out from nervous exhaustion before you finish the damn paper. And, when it's all over, the feeling that your feverish effort has been for nothing, that you have not become a better person or helped anyone else to become a better person or really influenced the world in any positive way through your scholarly essays on Rebecca Harding Davis and Amy Lowell, which took many hours to research and write.
You know, THAT feeling.
I didn't overdo it, did I?
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1 comment:
There there. I'm sure you're feeling better by now, and I've I've tagged you so you can talk about yourself, and that makes everyone feel better.
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