(no subject)
I am strangely busy.
I mean, okay, I should expect some degree of insanity. I'm taking 18 units worth of classes, co-teaching another 2 units worth. I work an average of 8 hours a week for pay and intern for another 4-6 unpaid. I am in two literature classes, each of which requires a good deal of reading and writing, and I am in two writing workshops. For one of those, I don't have to write short stories, but I do have to write extended and thoughtful critiques of student stories. I average 6 pages (single-spaced) of written short fiction criticism a week, between these two classes.
But this month is particularly difficult. I'm busy with something every weekend, even if the things don't take up the whole weekend. Also, I'm thinking I might be getting sick again, and the very idea of illness makes me want to cry. I don't have time to be sick. And yet apparently I have time to stay up late so that I don't get enough sleep so that my immune system isn't terribly strong so that my mother tells me it's my fault I'm sick (and really, it probably is).
I am behind on reading for my Milton class. I hear that for other people, this is normal, but not for me. I was ahead so much in that class that I haven't read for perhaps a month, but am only just now getting behind.
I made printer's pie today in printing class (which sounds much more fun than it is). Basically it's a nice way of saying that you screwed up some lines and will have to spend painstaking hours fixing them. I don't know why it's called after something as delicious as pie.
I have a 10-page paper due for one of my classes at the end of the month. I'm writing for Script Frenzy again, and I won't let myself lose...but the paper is due the day after the end of the frenzy.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE. I did finish my short story for tomorrow. I did get an A on a paper that I wrote while terribly ill. And I did watch a pretty good episode of Castle.
Okay. So life could be worse.
I mean, okay, I should expect some degree of insanity. I'm taking 18 units worth of classes, co-teaching another 2 units worth. I work an average of 8 hours a week for pay and intern for another 4-6 unpaid. I am in two literature classes, each of which requires a good deal of reading and writing, and I am in two writing workshops. For one of those, I don't have to write short stories, but I do have to write extended and thoughtful critiques of student stories. I average 6 pages (single-spaced) of written short fiction criticism a week, between these two classes.
But this month is particularly difficult. I'm busy with something every weekend, even if the things don't take up the whole weekend. Also, I'm thinking I might be getting sick again, and the very idea of illness makes me want to cry. I don't have time to be sick. And yet apparently I have time to stay up late so that I don't get enough sleep so that my immune system isn't terribly strong so that my mother tells me it's my fault I'm sick (and really, it probably is).
I am behind on reading for my Milton class. I hear that for other people, this is normal, but not for me. I was ahead so much in that class that I haven't read for perhaps a month, but am only just now getting behind.
I made printer's pie today in printing class (which sounds much more fun than it is). Basically it's a nice way of saying that you screwed up some lines and will have to spend painstaking hours fixing them. I don't know why it's called after something as delicious as pie.
I have a 10-page paper due for one of my classes at the end of the month. I'm writing for Script Frenzy again, and I won't let myself lose...but the paper is due the day after the end of the frenzy.
ON THE BRIGHT SIDE. I did finish my short story for tomorrow. I did get an A on a paper that I wrote while terribly ill. And I did watch a pretty good episode of Castle.
Okay. So life could be worse.