The Curious Incident.
.I am reading a book called "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime"
I like it so far, his writing style is very modern. Stream of consciousness almost. I think the main character is autistic. It was written by a British guy, and it's all the more enjoyable to hear about Mark's & Spencer's or taking the tube or blood all over this and that and your bloody problem and so forth.
I think I could write a book like it.
I have a Philosophy test today, that's the class I feel most frustrated by. It's very ridiculous because I'm supposed to be smart or something. I have only skipped that class once, and I don't think that's the class I needed to be at to understand this jargon.
I took two tests yesterday. I sometimes think one reason I am an English major is the feeling I have after I take a test. It's somewhere between exhaustion and elation - because I've worked for hours carving out these essays with nothing but my brains. I hope I did well on my test. I felt good about my essays once I was finished.
I also took a Spanish test, but I always feel good about those - no matter how much I study I always get between 86-90 percent.
Today the sun is shining in my window. It has been deceptively sunny, to borrow a dusty cliche. It's quite cold outside.
I don't want to study. I want to listen to The Smiths and read, or write for a change.
P.S. I found that red notebook!