Edited not once, not twice, but thrice (because I'm a bit incoherent tonight)!
Twelve hits for Starving... from the 'gen: dark' recs thread at lifein1973. I wonder how many of those readers liked it. Probably not too many.
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My sleep rhythm is so out of whack it's beyond ridiculous. Tonight (The fact that I'm mixing up "today" and "tonight" says it all, really.)Today I had to work at a quarter to eight in the morning. I hadn't slept. I'd spent all night staring at my frelling Ambrose Bierce paper. So I just went to work without sleep. And when I came back from work, two hours later (I could try to explain the highly irregular shifts to you, but chances are you'd just be confused; heck: I'm confused!) fell into bed and slept until five in the afternoon. Then got pizza, and proceeded to stare at my paper some more. (Interrupted by two hours of Dexter.) Of course, the day and night before weren't any better, either. And considering it's 2 a.m. and I still haven't finished the friggin' paper this one doesn't seem likely to shape up any better, either.
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Writer's block from hell. The paper's now five or six weeks overdue, and about one page and some footnotes from finished. It's been about that far from (or close to) finished for weeks now. It's not difficult, either. It's just... bleh. I don't know. I can't finish it. I sit there staring at the screen and nothing happens. Feeling incredibly stupid. And afraid of my M.A., for which I should be preparing already, if I weren't trying to write that frelling paper.
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Less than three months left before I have to start writing my thesis.
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Dexter rocks. So do fanvids.
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ETA: I've figured out the problem with my paper. It's so fucking pointless. I've never been good at coping with pointlessness.
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ETA: "Frustrated" is a bit of an understatement really. I feel like shit, actually.
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My sleep rhythm is so out of whack it's beyond ridiculous. Tonight (The fact that I'm mixing up "today" and "tonight" says it all, really.)Today I had to work at a quarter to eight in the morning. I hadn't slept. I'd spent all night staring at my frelling Ambrose Bierce paper. So I just went to work without sleep. And when I came back from work, two hours later (I could try to explain the highly irregular shifts to you, but chances are you'd just be confused; heck: I'm confused!) fell into bed and slept until five in the afternoon. Then got pizza, and proceeded to stare at my paper some more. (Interrupted by two hours of Dexter.) Of course, the day and night before weren't any better, either. And considering it's 2 a.m. and I still haven't finished the friggin' paper this one doesn't seem likely to shape up any better, either.
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Writer's block from hell. The paper's now five or six weeks overdue, and about one page and some footnotes from finished. It's been about that far from (or close to) finished for weeks now. It's not difficult, either. It's just... bleh. I don't know. I can't finish it. I sit there staring at the screen and nothing happens. Feeling incredibly stupid. And afraid of my M.A., for which I should be preparing already, if I weren't trying to write that frelling paper.
-
Less than three months left before I have to start writing my thesis.
-
Dexter rocks. So do fanvids.
-
ETA: I've figured out the problem with my paper. It's so fucking pointless. I've never been good at coping with pointlessness.
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ETA: "Frustrated" is a bit of an understatement really. I feel like shit, actually.