The worst thing about writing, is the block.
I would pay good money to the man who invents the literary jackhammer.
Then there are days the block is no where to be seen and writing comes flowing out like warm syrup over chocolate pancakes.
Today is chocolate pancake day.
Today is the second day to the Mountain-Plains philosophy conference, held this year at my University, Fort Hays State, in Kansas.
The keynote was superb. For a concept as difficult as Metaphysics the speaker Ted Sider from New York University explained it in such a way that his objections did not leave me feeling like an idiot.
Also: I found out a strange thing today, the laces in my left shoe were put in backwards. The pain was excruciating but I never thought the laces themselves were responsible. I’m pretty sure I wasn’t the one who put them in that way.
Strangeness abounds. Anyways, off to write finish a paper for Lit.
The end of my weekend wasn’t as bad as one might think, what with the universe conspiring to ensure I’m busy at all times with things I probably should have finished years months weeks ago. Despite being sick last week work wasn’t bad. Never mind sounding like Steve Urkle during phone calls, consistency is what matters in this day and age.
I’ve had an interesting few days. Between stress over papers, the need to finish fixing computers and the eventual overthrowing of the universe by people who are far too smart even by my standards (hopefully I’ll be given the promised keys of Australia), I’ve had moments of happiness, my kitten has purred and my laundry slowly decreases in density or volume, depending on the configuration of the universe at the time.
By the way: I need more movie suggestions and book suggestions so I can continue my procrastination into the next few months and weeks before I fail all my classes.
Someone will have to explain to me how to finish school or at least achieve a semblance of time and energies to succeed more admirably than I may currently be doing.
Enough of the late night ranting, I have to get to sleep before the clowns come after me.
Frank, you should talk to them, bunny to clown.
Strange events, today the good Doctor Drabkin threatened me that if I were silly enough to keep up my journal writing he’d compile the works for publication.
I don’t know how scary that may be.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t have obligations.
It would make leaving so much easier.
