It's driving me insane already. I love writing, but there's SO MUCH OF IT. I'm inundated with it from all my classes. Literally EVERY CLASS has writing assignments due at some point this week. Or speaking assignments that I have to write out first. And the only thing I want to do is read books in my bed, hang out with my friends that I've sorely missed and think about how pathetic I am. Is that too much to ask? IS IT?
Apparently it is. Because as much as I want to say I'm over him and all his drama, I'm not. Not even close. And every time I say I am, I'm lying to everyone around me. And my extremely heavy workload doesn't allow for much pity party time. I can pity party or nap, and napping is the better option. Or so my body tells me.
But seriously...THE WRITING. I have to keep a weekly journal that consists of two pages a week, handwritten. Then there's the reflections and odd response papers. I have a 25 page senior paper, a 6 page paper on a Toni Morrison novel due later, and did I mention I have to read about 200 pages a week? Now I average about 200-400 pages a day when I feel like it, but still...damn.
It's a damn good thing I'm an English major, or else I'd be burned out by the end of this semester. This was a short post. I'm going to bed now because I have to go to class tomorrow, but I'll be done by noon, and then I can do ALL the sleeping. Then I'll do homework.
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