Welcome To My Bed

The busiest of bees.

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This is the face of someone overwhelmed by the sheer amount of work she has left to do, even with only two more papers left to write before the transition into her final phase of higher education begins. I woke up at ten this morning and plowed straight into my work. I was working on that same fiction workshop revision from yesterday and I realized something a little bit ridiculous. It was initially an eight page piece. It has since grown to be eighteen pages. Yes. I know. Eighteen. I wrote my professor a note at the top that apologizes. I hope that will be enough of an explanation. I just could not stop myself. Im afraid to reread it too many time for fear that I'll end up adding more. And that is really the last thing that I need.

At any rate, I'll be done with my workshop portfolio momentarily (all that's left to do is print!) and then I can focus on the big meaty papers. Oh joy. These are the reasons why I will never go to graduate school for literature. A consideration of the gendered journeys to adulthood undertaken by Milkman in Song of Solomon and Denver in Beloved. And then a serious consideration of Houellebecq's assertion that love cannot properly function in a capitalist individualistic society, made in The Elementary Particles, a concept that is still making me have panic attacks, not because I don't think I can write a serious paper about it, but because I am scared that he's right. I don't know when I became such a feminist. I don't know how it is that I decided it was time that I take on gender differences in literature. It was never really something that interested me before this semester. It's the academic community taking hold in my brain I suppose, in addition to that bell hooks that I've been reading. I am having serious issues putting down All About Love even though I know that I have so many other things I need to get done before I go home on Thursday. Like packing. And those papers. I have a copy of Diane Ackerman's A Natural History of Love sitting next to me right now, begging to be read. So much to do.