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I am a strange creature I am

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Feb. 11th, 2001 | 11:14 pm
mood: contemplativecontemplative
music: Billy Joel - We Didn't Start the Fire

Anyone looking in on me in my dorm room right now would likely find me very odd. I'm sitting at my desk, typing at my computer. Nothing odd in that scene -- it is fairly typical of college students. However, I am sitting on a leopard-print floor pillow that I am using as a cushion on my chair... which is not what most people do. In addition, I am sitting with one foot tucked under me and the other stretched out and rested on the corner of my desk. And for some reason this is a perfectly comfortable position in which to sit and think and type and work on my paper.

I am wrestling with my writing sweatshop essay. And I do mean wrestling... writing in some ways feels like a war because there are so many things that I want to say, but then there is the difficulty of making them all fit together logically. They are, naturally, all tied together by the fact that they are my thoughts and are related to the purpose of writing, but there is no profound idea behind them that I can glean as yet. I would like to have such an idea so that I could find it and use it as a guiding statement in my essay.

The final draft is due Friday. I must do at least two more drafts between now and then, I think. One I shall do tonight, one I shall do tomorrow and the final revision I shall pull together on Tuesday night. Because if I procrastinate, I will never get everything done that I need to finish between now and Friday. I cannot be my typical procrastinatory self.

I want this week to be over.

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