I just want it to be 3am Wednesday so that we can know for sure what’s going on. Am I moving to Canada? Is Obama assassinated? Or is all well?
I’m still not writing much. I don’t know why that is, aside from the general I’m way too busy all the time and at the moment I have a cold reasons. I feel like writing poetry, of course, since I’m in the middle of the semester in which I’m taking a fiction class. Must it always work like that? I have a conference with my fiction TA tomorrow; I’m sure he will tell me that my latest story is pretty crappy, which is kind of true. I couldn’t handle writing a brand new one, and the two I’m working on wouldn’t be finished in time for the due date, so I took a vignette I wrote about two years ago for a book that I thought was maybe good-ish, edited it, had Eric look over it and edit it again, and then I handed it in. I mean, it’s not terrible. But I could do better if I tried. Bah.