I'm floating around in a dream state as if I don't have a hundred things to do in the next three weeks. Otherwise I wouldn't have slept for three hours in the middle of the day yesterday, because I'm sure the anxiety of deadlines would have woken me up. Now the reality is creeping in a bit more after a leisurely morning of coffee and poking along at the computer. The greyness of the days isn't helping to motivate me -- it's hard to believe it's nearly 11 am when the sky appears to be pre-dawn. Likewise, when it's twilight blue at 5 pm, it's hard to not give up hope on the day being productive because nighttime has arrived.
Though I did get out of bed at midnight last night to write a letter to the President. Unfortunately, that doesn't pay.
But I shouldn't complain, since my tasks for today include reviewing a porn movie and doing research on a timeline of the history of queer press. Tomorrow I can complain, since I'll probably be stuck in a library in Evanston all day.
I want to write more, but I'm out of time.
Though I did get out of bed at midnight last night to write a letter to the President. Unfortunately, that doesn't pay.
But I shouldn't complain, since my tasks for today include reviewing a porn movie and doing research on a timeline of the history of queer press. Tomorrow I can complain, since I'll probably be stuck in a library in Evanston all day.
I want to write more, but I'm out of time.