First Draft Complete

Wee, exuberance!

First, I've been writing this paper in the computer lab. The Honors one, which isn't so full of distractions... supposedly. I have been wrong.

Maybe I'm just set off by such small things, but I do not like it when someone puts their feet up on the desk while they're on a public computer. It's just... ewwww. I don't want to sit at a place and put my stuff where feet have been. What's especially bad is when they're sitting next to the wall and they put their feet on it. Ewwwwwwwww. I hope that's not where the dirt marks on the walls have come from, but something tells me...

Don't get me wrong, I don't think feet are bad or anything, but they have no reason to be there, and they tend to get dirty enough, after wearing sandals around campus, that it becomes a slight sanitary concern for me.

I also dislike people who answer their cell phone in here. It's quite similar to doing it in the upper levels of the library in the rows of study carrels. No, I don't want to hear about your plans with your partner tonight, or a friend's indiscretions. At least, not while I'm studying. I have a feeling that if I were to ask them about further details, they'd be offended that I listened, but it's such a quiet place typically that I can't help it. It's like Scott, except that I can hear Scott no matter where I am. (And he doesn't annoy me... unless, again, I'm trying to focus on something.)

I worked on this paper on "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" (and fragmentation!) yesterday until I was just sick of it. It was all I worked on in the afternoon.

Today I have worked on it, and reached some sort of resolution. Yay! At least I have the right number of pages. Now I have to wait a couple of hours, reread it, and wonder whether it sounds remotely coherent or not.

I can't reread it right now because then I will have not yet purged my nonwritten assumptions, and so whenever I have a pronoun, I'll not be as sensitive if, say, it refers to something in my mind!

But yes. Now I get to break by reading some Othello. Wee!

And I think other than that, I'll take the afternoon off. I mean, I'll actually only get, what, an hour to myself? But it will be sooooo nice!

Word of the day: Micawber. From a Dickens work. "Romantic, irresponsible, or feckless optimist," says the Oxford English Dictionary. Operative as a noun or a verb.

I wish that Ashley would stop Micawbering around, as she's scaring all the square-nosed vituperate defenders of the facts of life away and replacing them with decadent half-full bowls of fudge ice cream with suggestively poised spoons.

... I think I know what I'm going to eat at Wyrd. If I remember after rereading my paper.