Okay. I’ve neglected the hell out of this blog. I’d like to somehow quantify the amount of writing I’ve been doing, but I’m bum shit with numbers and would no doubt exaggerate by several degrees of magnitude. How it feels and what it is rarely match up. My plate’s full, though:
- 17 credit hours. That’s two prose workshops, a class on chocolate, a leadership role in a game design project, a mini-thesis (12 pages only), and a super-shitty children’s lit class
- Part-time work. Yes, I’m still somehow working at the credit union. What the hell is wrong with me?
- I’m trying to get started at the IDS, but as in past semesters that ambition is getting lost in the glare of all my other responsibilities.
- Thoughts of grad school/the future in general. Debt hovers like a hungry ghost.
So that’s it. That’s what I’ve been up to. I’ve also given to drinking on Wednesdays and Sundays with my new friends Crystal and George, a married pair of nuclear physicists. They’ve got hella fine math skills. I’m sure they have an understanding of the universe I may arrive at on my deathbed. Maybe. Having them as friends falls in line with my fascination with atomic bombs and good jazz.
I’m writing a story right now that I’m aiming at multiple targets:
- it will satisfy a workshop requirement
- it might win me a bunch of money should I win an undergrad contest
- it will become part of what i submit to graduate schools
- i will be writing that mini-thesis on how I came to “complete” this one
Sounds like the mule’s fully loaded, eh? Well, it is. Loaded like that any organism might just choke on air becuase it has a weight, too.
I am neglecting everyone in my life in sundry ways. I am pushed to writing lists, something I’ve never done before. I have taken to wringing my hands, so to speak.
Faraway, a tiny light twinkles. That’s where I’m headed.