This is what I get for procrastinating.
This is what I get for putting off an 8-page paper until the day before it's due. Or actually, this is what I get for putting off an 8-page paper until the day before it's due when I know I am the slowest writer in the world. Seriously, Guinness will corroborate this claim. It's a sad reality for an English major, but right now I have no words to write about what I am actually supposed to be writing about.
These caged books are a blatant metaphor for my life right now. And I, like them, will be caged indefinitely, trapped in my corner until the end of time. Or until my test at 9:30 a.m. tomorrow, whichever should come first.
Today was miserable, but at least I was told that I only have to take 15 hours next semester and not 18, as I originally thought. So there's that...
But my happiness was short-lived. Benjamin Franklin is not-so-humbly forcing me to write more about how awesome and inspirational and American dream-like his life was.
This AmLit paper is calling me back, so wish me luck.
That, or a swift and painless end.