11 days into a new year - yet no blog entry to celebrate, none to lists various resolutions and hopes and unfulfilled dreams. I’m far too lazy for that.
A current favourite song by Tullycraft suddenly made irrelevant; one more set of stairs to haul a bedraggled mess of lethargy and semiapathy up every morning; a few more dreams, now seemingly closer, to chase.
Back to the selfsame old habit of sleeping excessively late, unintentional (and intentional) procrastination, poking fun at and pulling jokes out of everything and anything - and even nothing at all. There is such nebulous resentment-joy now at finally getting forward - this necessitates more work.
Mulling over curriculum-stipulated literature texts, replete with prefaces chock-full of overly (self-)effusive drivel. Copypasting and inelegantly summarizing points, in one fell swoop, to fit on a drab, monochromatic slideshow that I will no doubt be terribly unenthusiastic presenting to the class. Reading Simone de Beauvoir ’til 3AM. On a school day. In electronic format. Boy, am I tired.
Now, what is to come?
