It's cute how I started out the semester and I was all YAY SO MUCH EASIER THAN LAST SEMESTER. LET ME EAT SUSHI AT 10PM. LET ME WATCH RERUNS OF SHOWS I'M GENERALLY DISINTERESTED IN. LET ME DO EVERYTHING BUT WORK WITH THE VIGOUR OF ALL CAPS.
But now, in my second week, I'm realizing - hey, there - I have work to do. Which is why, of course, I'm posting here instead. I have all the factors I need to get my work done set up - a baller playlist of Wilco and Elliott Smith (make fun. make fun of me, invisible readers), two cups of coffee in my system, new lightbulbs in my lamps, new .7mm pencils and pens. Somehow, though, I can't get myself quite there.
Last semester I took this one English course, the second to last capstone, that was crazy awesome. By which I literally mean amazing, and insane. The professor got discussions out of my fairly silent class within a week. And these weren't "Is this character nice?" discussions. This was some Lacanian, Purloined Letter, Freudian, fancy-worded stuff. So when my English prof. of this semester starts out with "This class is mostly YOU (staring down the class in general) talking" and then proceeded to lecture for an hour and 20 minutes, well, I was...Okay I wasn't shocked or surprised or nearly anything that active, something more like jarred. Or perturbed. That's sort of the word I wanted but with a less disturbed-esque connotation.
It's honestly a relief though, to not have to be thinking something challenging and intelligent at all times. What's not a relief is the fact that he has replaced the last syllable of my name, -ha, with -ho. Yes.
That is all. The o-chem problems beckon. And Elliott Smith is depressing me enough for me to want to work on them.
YUP.
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