well...two more weeks before those papers are due. they aren't any more done now than they were two weeks ago. okay that's a lie. each one is about four pages more done than they were. that's clearly not saying much for my ability to get myself together.
and so it begs the question: why am i even here? if i procrastinate like crazy, am constantly annoyed by my work, and can't wait for summer to start...why am i here? i like learning! i like class! but do i only like those things when they keep me from having a "real" job? i think the short answer is a resounding "yes."
officemate bryan keeps urging me to pursue my mfa in creative nonfiction. that'd be cool, for sure, but it's doubtful i have the chops. i think that maybe the worst thing in the world is realizing that you're not as great as you wanted people to think you were.
actually, maybe the worst thing in the world is not giving yourself credit.
but then you question yourself again, and wonder, well, maybe i'm thinking too much of myself if i think i'm not giving myself enough credit. maybe there's no credit to be deserved! maybe i'm exactly what i'm afraid of being: a mediocre graduate student at a mediocre graduate school writing mediocre english papers that are (let's be completely honest, here) absolutely pointless. the only people who read them are my professors, and they don't think they're that great. even if i were to get something published (longshot!) the only people who would read it are other english majors doing papers on stuff i wrote about. that's the way it works. it's just a closed-off circle of english major people doing stupid theoretical english major stuff that doesn't even matter in life! IT'S SO DUMB.
but, i guess i like it.
