Friday, September 28
At five oh two this morning I walking on campus to hand my just completed paper, which fit exactly within the eight page upper length limit of the assignment. The title was "The Pequod Encounters: Questioning the Universality Theme in Moby-Dick." Not my best title. Not my best paper, but it was finished.
When I went to campus at 11:00 to check e-mail and waste an hour of French drill in the language lab, my paper was two single-spaced pages long plus a page of unincorporated quotes and sentence fragments.
When I went to sleep last night at 3:45 and again when I woke up this morning at 8:00 the paper was about three paragraphs long, and Microsoft word was on all night, the little apple light gently breathing and glowing.
When I went to campus last night at 8:00 and walked back home and then walked back to campus immediately afterwards the paper did not exist except as a series of vaguely related but thesis-less ideas.
When I walked from Sharples to the Barn alongside Sarah Fritsch after lunch yesterday I had just begun to sniffle. She was iller than I, and we agreed that exercise is the way to go.
When I took a nap at 6:30 last evening I felt a little better, but the pockets of my corduroy jacket were still full of kleenex when I walked to campus.
When I was writing my paper this morning, and now again, the screen made my eyes itch and my black ribbed t-shirt grew linty with kleenex crumble.
When I woke up from another nap at 7:30 today, I felt somewhat better again, at least my fluids had congealed a bit, and I put on UB40 and pulsated into the kitchen.
When Ben decides he wants to go to the IC party at Olde Club later tonight, I will feel a conflict of interest and good taste, and I will probably go and come back feeling worse and better.
When I went to campus at 11:00 to check e-mail and waste an hour of French drill in the language lab, my paper was two single-spaced pages long plus a page of unincorporated quotes and sentence fragments.
When I went to sleep last night at 3:45 and again when I woke up this morning at 8:00 the paper was about three paragraphs long, and Microsoft word was on all night, the little apple light gently breathing and glowing.
When I went to campus last night at 8:00 and walked back home and then walked back to campus immediately afterwards the paper did not exist except as a series of vaguely related but thesis-less ideas.
When I walked from Sharples to the Barn alongside Sarah Fritsch after lunch yesterday I had just begun to sniffle. She was iller than I, and we agreed that exercise is the way to go.
When I took a nap at 6:30 last evening I felt a little better, but the pockets of my corduroy jacket were still full of kleenex when I walked to campus.
When I was writing my paper this morning, and now again, the screen made my eyes itch and my black ribbed t-shirt grew linty with kleenex crumble.
When I woke up from another nap at 7:30 today, I felt somewhat better again, at least my fluids had congealed a bit, and I put on UB40 and pulsated into the kitchen.
When Ben decides he wants to go to the IC party at Olde Club later tonight, I will feel a conflict of interest and good taste, and I will probably go and come back feeling worse and better.
