The idea of being caught up on reading for class is a distant dream, a fantasy so ridiculous, I laugh hollowly at the idea of it being true. I don't know how some of my classmates balance school and work, when I can hardly keep my head above water even after quitting my job. But enough with the comparing game. That's useless.
|Here's a picture of Baby Dango with my books.|
Carrying that big blue Norton and the big brown
critical theory anthology in my backpack at the
same time is probably bad for my back. Oh well.
Actually, this feeling of desperation might be good... maybe it will help me write another poem. I have to turn in five on Monday, and I only have three, or maybe four that I'm ready to submit to my classmates for editing. Prose comes a lot more easily for me (between school, blogging, and other creative writing, I've had a lot of practice). But stress helped me finish my last packet of five poems (I played with the "elephant on my chest" cliche). So maybe it will help this time, too.
Anyway, if I don't reply to you on Twitter or in a discussion we began in blog comments somewhere, I'm sorry. If it's important, you can always direct message me on Twitter, email me, or comment here (I try to check for comments daily, and usually reply to them right away, if I can think of anything to say).
That is all. I think I'll go watch the latest Shirobako before bed... I think. I have almost no sense of days and weeks anymore, but I'm pretty sure I haven't watched it this week.