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Writers have two main problems. One is writer's block, when words won't come at all, and the other's logorrhea, when the words come so fast that they hardly get to the wastebasket in time. --Cecilia Bartholomew |
Tuesday, November 30, 1999 It's Done So, on Monday, I went to college at noon, and worked at the English Department for two hours, during which time I also spoke to the head of the American Studies Department about my upcoming Winter Break work on their Web site, about which I'd undoubtably have more to say if I weren't short on time and more than ready for bed, to which I'd be metaphorically going (metaphorically, because my bed is Command Central in this room--my one chair is simply a place to stack things: clothes, just now--so I've been sitting on it [the bed, not the chair] for hours now) if not for the fact that I've just remembered that in addition to all the schoolwork I haven't done, I promised to have a flyer done for the English Club by tomorrow, and I haven't even started writing the thing. Now, that is a long sentence. At any rate, from there to my Women's Studies class, after which I took off from my last hour of English Department work so I could go to the computer lab and finish the bloody essay I'd been up all night working on. By 5:00, it was done. Of course, class had started at 4:30, but there's no reason to get technical. It was done. Mind you, on arriving home later on, it occurred to me that I had forgotten to put a title on the thing, and that the professor in question is insistent about titles. And on looking it over today, I note that a few paragraphs in the thing were quite noticeably written when I was a bit out of it... but, well, anyway, it's done. So that much is good.
From there to Professor J's office, or, more precisely, to the armchair in his office, where I proceeded to nap for a bit, before heading off to my final class of the day, in Indian History, which was okay, after which I went home and slept for ten hours. In hindsight, I wished I'd left my alarm clock off, 'cause I wouldn't have minded a couple hours more. And today was okay, although the Powers That Control My Television Reception were frowning on me again, and I had to rely on my TV-radio for the sound the whole way through Buffy and Angel. And I have to admit that I'm glad they'll be showing reruns next week, 'cause I'm going to need the time to work on my final paper for my Women's Studies class that night. Speaking of which, that mugging put a bit of a crimp in my plans. See, I'd had this stack of library books from a few different branches in the system that I'd been planning on using for the report. For which I still don't really have a topic -- I know I'm doing something on "masculinity," but that covers a heck of a lot of territory -- but let that pass; you may have noticed by now that this is par for the course. Anyway, I needed to renew them all for this to be possible. Which would have been fine, except that my library card was stolen. And the only way I could replace it was by returning everything I'd taken out and paying all my fines, after which I was able to start my new card with a clean slate. Which means I now have to go out to Jamaica in my copious free time and, hopefully, take all these books out all over again. And let's not get into the one I got from the Far Rockaway branch; I'm just hoping the one in Jamaica has it, too. Oh, well.
A haiku:
No, on second thought,
The problem with writing the English Club literary journal flyer soliciting submissions from faculty members is that I'm too used to using my own voice. So in the first draft (mostly written between the line above this paragraph, and this paragraph -- ummm, no, don't look for it; I mean, in between typing them), I'm making jokes all over the place, which I could pull off if I were speaking for myself, but which isn't really an option in this case, I suppose. I'll have to play it straight. I know how to play it straight, of course, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. Hmmmph. Okay, I'm going to go to sleep and look at it again in the morning, I think.
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