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Susan Scribbles

Tag Archives: essay blues

12 Tuesday Oct 2004

Posted by Khali in Journal

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beautiful strings of words, essay blues, school, writing

Am taking a small break from writing an essay and workshopping stories. I just realised that I have a hell of a lot to read this week, if I’m going to stay on top of everything. Bah.

I swear, I think I’m forgetting something… don’t you hate that?

The darling cats knocked my glasses off the bedside table the night before last. Turns out I have a massive scratch on the right lens now, so that I have to replace it. I suppose it serves me right for leaving the damn things on the top of the table.

Was on my way to class this am and as I was getting off the bus I saw near one of the garbage cans at the exchange, four little baby rabbits fighting over a piece of apple. They were so cute, and so preoccupied that I was able to pet them.

My morning proff was wearing a tie that was too short. I spent half the class speculating on whether it was a gift that he was wearing merely to mollify the gift-giver. It was green with white polka dots.

I don’t think I woke up properly today, because my brain’s been doing fabulous back-flips and I can’t seem to stay on any one subject for more than a few minutes. This is why I’m taking a little break. There’s no use forcing the issue. If I try I won’t get anything done.

I’ve been reading “Negotiating With the Dead: A Writer on Writing” by Margaret Atwood. I’ve been seriously amused by the book, so it should be relatively easy to finish four pages on it. Here’s a quote, from page 38:

“Where does it come from, this notion that the writing self – the self that comes to be thought of as ‘the author’ – is not the same as the one who does the living? Where do writers pick up the idea that they have an alien of some sort living in their brain? Surely it wasn’t Charles Dickens the fun-loving paterfamilias, keen deviser of Christmas games for his kiddies, who caused poor Little Nell to die an early death? He cried the whole time his pen-wielding hand was pitilessly doing her in. No, it was the necrophiliac he carried around inside himself, like a tapeworm made of ink.”

Delightful.

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19 Monday Nov 2001

Posted by Khali in Journal

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a case of the Mondays, essay blues, school

Sigh, I hate mondays. And I also have a thing against essays and computers. Last night I sat down to finish off my essay, you know, touch it up, add a few things, delete the repeated stuff. At about nine or ten last night I’m pretty excited because it’s looking pretty good, and Ive had a brain wave and it actually sounds like a university level essay (I suck at essays, have I mentioned this?) and so I go to save it. Control + s. What happens? My computer freezes. So I’m sitting in front of my computer and I just cry, because I know that what I started out with is pretty damn close to crap and all the good stuff I just managed to pour into it has just been lost. I reset the silly little piece of ^%&$ and pray that something was salvaged, but no. Of course. My luck is like that sometimes, you see. This morning, feeling like crap because I have a cold and my eyes are extra puffy from my being a silly ass cry baby last night and I have to hand in what I know is a ‘C’ paper because I couldn’t recapture my brainwave from earlier in the day.

There. I think I’m done bitching. About the paper anyway. My ICQ’s not working right today it seems. Doesn’t want to connect for some reason, and I want to talk to Nomes. Walli too. John’s at work. He wasn’t supposed to work today, but Steve phoned this morning at about 7:30 and asked him to come in. I was comfy too, drat it. John’s so patient with me. Last night, I didn’t even want anything to do with me because I was such a blithering idiot. I guess it is stress, but I felt like such a baby for crying over an essay. There must be something wrong with me though, I’m enjoying sleep and food far too much. Hell, I can’t even fit half my clothes properly anymore. in fact I think I need to go up a cup size if you can imagine. Amber will be mad at me for that, but that’s besides the point. I could say it was John’s excellent culinary skills that have contributed to my added poundage, but I think it’s more likely because my eating habits have changed. I used to eat at most two meals a day. I used to climb a mountain at school every day at Malaspina. I used to live off popcorn rather than square meals. At least I’m healthier.

Anyway, enough lamenting. I’m starting to be a drag!

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