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Allow me to bitch about real life for a bit. I have so much reading to do, it's insane. I really like my classes--I fought to get spots in most of them--but the downside of having 4.5 truly interesting classes is that I now have to do the work for said classes. Whereas last semester, I had 1 truly interesting class, and 3 boring classes that I could more or less bs my way through. Grrr.
I thought I was on top of things. I finished my reading (Tacitus) for Monday, and was all set to start the 3-classes-worth of reading for Tuesday. I wasn't too worried. Foolish me. Some Poe, some Lacan, and some stuff on Ancient Greece, oh and some Shakespeare. The Tempest and it's introduction. I was even looking forward to that--I like the Tempest, although I've never read it, and I figured the introduction couldn't be too long.
The introduction is 138 pages of boring. It is at least twice as long as the play. I am supposed to be reading it right now, but I really needed to vent. This drama class better be worth it.
Okay, I'm done now.
Oh, and on top of all the work for my classes, I've had a plot-bug attacking me all week and I've had no time to work on it since classes started again. It's rather worrying because I had decided not to do fanfics with plots anymore, as I lost interest in the last one after a year or so. But this plot really wants to be written. Except that would mean thinking of an ending, and the only possible ending I can think of now would be horribly depressing, and I don't like to write depressing.
The introduction is 138 pages of boring. It is at least twice as long as the play. I am supposed to be reading it right now, but I really needed to vent. This drama class better be worth it.
Okay, I'm done now.
Oh, and on top of all the work for my classes, I've had a plot-bug attacking me all week and I've had no time to work on it since classes started again. It's rather worrying because I had decided not to do fanfics with plots anymore, as I lost interest in the last one after a year or so. But this plot really wants to be written. Except that would mean thinking of an ending, and the only possible ending I can think of now would be horribly depressing, and I don't like to write depressing.