Deep thoughts by--
by ME, dumbass, who else??Jeeez.
Ok, so I have a smallish paper to write and I should get on that.
But.
First.
I feel like writing something.
I had some cool thoughts today while driving,
and like always,
they evaporated.
Oh well.
At least I drove to campus to edit an article today...
without bothering to check with editor(s) to see if they would even BE THERE.
I'm such a 'tard.
Ooooooh well.
At least I included the bit about my niece in said article.
I hope I get hate mail.
That would be SO ____________(whatever word the kids are using instead of "cool" these days.)
Which reminds me of how much I love catching glimpses of people,
and piecing together the slivers and wisps of them to fashion a whole.
Like this one hauntingly beautiful girl from the staff.
She should be on a runway--no, in close-ups.
She is graceful and it looks as if she isn't constructed in such a way as to ever offer a smile, but she does.
Maybe it's just that she is riveting to behold without a smile...?
Dunno.
But I'm pretty sure I would never be friends with her;
I've always been intimidated by girls like that, women like that.
She actually seems very nice.
But so very serious and spectacular and
completely
un
touchable.
I guess I am fascinated by people who are so different from myself.
Sometimes this fascination is in the form of dislike, but not this time, and not often.
Ok, enough of that.
I have that paper to write, don't I?
Blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah.
I know I'm as fickle as...
er...
someone who is VERY fickle,
but I really sort of think English is not the major for me.
I absolutely loathe writing papers about books.
I detest disecting books.
I abhor forced reading.
It all feels pointless and ridiculous.
I love to read.
I love to write.
but this???
I kind of want to gouge my eyes out.
Ok, so I only need to write 3-4 pages which is NOTHING.
I am not worried about that.
What concerns me is that this type of assignment feels so useless to me.
Ask me to tell you a story!
Tell me to memorize a list of facts!
Give me a giant stack of poorly written essays to edit or sentences to diagram!!
But PLEASE, for the love of Shakespeare, do NOT make me tell you what a poem means to me.
Fuck.
Just...FUCK.
This definitely means I'm in the wrong major.
Or at least I need to find an emphasis or a minor or SOMETHING.
Guess how many blowjobs my husband got tonight?
Well, ok, actually only one.
That was a stupid question.
BUT.
It was a really fantastic one.
And.
He totally deserved it.
I don't usually use sex as a straight across reward for good behavior.
That seems a little...manipulative.
However.
The dear man did dishes TWICE today,
did math homework with two handsome little redheads,
and thanked me profusely for the delicious dinner I cooked.
It was WILD!
I was literally turned on by his behavior.
I am such a dork.
I am also reasonably sure it wasn't actually him, but I'll take it.
And now I'm going to stop procrastinating and start dissecting.
At least I get to write about Emily Dickenson if I want to.
I'll keep you posted.
(I love that woman and her wonderful words!) |
posted by Bored Housewife at
8:58 PM
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