![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
labellementeuseI am listening to Paul Simon's song "Gumboots" (lyrics) on repeat, as loud as I can justify in my headphones in the library. I feel that this song accurately reflects my emotional state, which is to say: I haven't eaten since midnight, when I consumed a large bag of Maltesers and two bottles of tab. This kept me awake until I finished the aforeposted essay, after which I conked out for three hours before waking up at 8 to return my three-hour loan to the library by 9. Since then I've been sitting in the computer labs editing the final product and trying to cut a 4,000 first draft of a totally different assignment down to the absolute-maximum-2000 words. If I get it down to 2,700 I'll consider myself lucky, even though it stopped making sense around the time I got it down to 2,890 words. Surely there is no process more soul-destroying than this kind of wholesale destruction.
In other words:
Believing I had supernatural powers, I slammed into a brick wall
I said hey, is this my problem? Is this my fault?
If that's the way it's going to be
I'm going to call the whole thing to a halt.
In other words:
Believing I had supernatural powers, I slammed into a brick wall
I said hey, is this my problem? Is this my fault?
If that's the way it's going to be
I'm going to call the whole thing to a halt.
