Wednesday, June 14, 2006

oh yeah ... school

Day 294

14 June 2006


As a student, I try to be conscientious. I do the assigned reading. I turn assignments in on time. I try not to let my personal life affect my academic performance. If that means the occasional late night reading or working on a paper, that's fine. But at this point I am faced with the fact that I am about to end a term without having done the required work, and it pains me deeply.

While we were moving, I got so far behind on the reading for my theory class that it became impossible to catch up. And the professor knows that I haven't done the reading, because I haven't been turning in reading logs. It's unfortunate, too, because I find the class much more engaging than I anticipated. Class discussion has been lively and (do I want to admit this?) fun, and the reading has actually been interesting for me. Instead of reading about feminism, or New Historicism, or whatever, we've been reading feminist criticism of Shakespeare, New Historicist criticism of Shakespeare, etc. and then discussing it in class. Of course, when I say "we" have been reading this stuff, I mean "the rest of the class has been reading it, and I've been showing up to class and pretending to know what's going on." I was really lost with the New Historicist stuff, because I literally never opened the textbook. I also skipped class the night we cleaned the rental, which didn't help. I mean, it did help us get the rental clean, but it definitely didn't help me catch up on my schoolwork. Anyway, now our final projects and presentations are coming due, and I haven't even started my research. This is going to be a long weekend of quick reading and frantic writing.

Friday, June 09, 2006

oh. my. gosh. BUGS.

Day 284
9 June 2006

I put a load of laundry in the washer yesterday evening. At 2:00 this afternoon, while Peach was securely strapped into her high chair, I went downstairs to put the laundry in the dryer. Upon opening the washer, I was confronted by a HUGE COCKROACH, lying on its back, obviously breathing its last (or whatever it is they do – I have no idea if they even breathe). The fact that the beast is dying is good. The fact that it is dying in my washing machine is BAD. Armed with a wad of about 16 paper towels, I remove the creature, which is still twitching feebly, and deposit it in the outside garbage can. One by one, I take each article out of the washer, shake it, and scrutinize it carefully. Then everything goes back into the washer for another wash cycle. I am NOT OK WITH THIS.