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aporeo - 19:10 on 17 II 2004

sol occidit - 23:29 on 13 I 2004

meminisse haec iuvabit - 11:47 on 16 XII 2003

quiesco - 20:31 on 08 XI 2003

alchera mortuast - 14:40 on 01 X 2003
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16 XII 2003 - 11:47 - meminisse haec iuvabit


So, you know, I am always shocked with the speed at which news travels. There's nothing like good news spreading and random congratulations to emphasize how small a world my school is and how much we are all poking our noses into each other's business (there has to be something wrong with the number agreement there; my apologies). Also, occasions like this are cause for guilt, because people I swear I have never seen before come up to me and, after greeting me warmly (Do I know you? Well, obviously I should), basically let me know they've been keeping tabs on me. Which could be sort of intimidating, really. I've never struck myself as the to-be-watched type, and I hope to god I never am. (This, as I continue to update the online diary. I never said I wasn't a hypocrite, mind.)

Control is something I seem to be lacking these days. My argument for my paper is ever-more fleshed out, but I can't focus with the vacuum cleaner going in the background, and once the Powers that Be in this household have started it up, there's no stopping them. I'm not feeling too bad -- yet -- because the essay isn't due until 3 PM today. I still have three hours, just about. Of course, if I spend those three hours like I just spent the past hour, I'm doomed. Although it's not as if I have nothing to show for it -- three cards for Epiphany made, with 300 more words to my Yuletide assignment on top of it. This brings me to 700/1000 -- a good place to be, if it is due on Sunday. (Unfortunately for me, however, I still haven't gotten Will and Bran to bed, there's still no dialogue, and I have succeeded in nothing, really, except proving that I cannot write coherent, readable fiction to save my life.)

On the other hand, everything is really small. Most of the projects I was worried about just a week ago (in the lesser journal, naturally) have passed without incident, even if I don't know how I did. I've gotten through more than half of my finals; I've received and am happy with my schedule (even if my schedule of frees is bizarre enough that I don't have any days where I can go home early, and have two-hour blocks in between). I have an acceptance letter somewhere, and all that stands between me and a long, relaxing break with my family and my Latin texts is a stupid comparison paper that I probably could write in an hour if I just sat down and focused. (Incidentally, writing this entry counts as 'focused thought,' at least for my purposes. The Internet dooms me.)

Sometimes poisonous impulses build up within me, and I have to let them out.






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