Here I sit at 8:00 p.m., thumbing through pages of sociological research and deconstructionist explanations of literary theory. I will have no life this semester, thank you English Major desires.
So why then, in the midst of all this struggling through understanding and lack of innate insight into theoretical assumptions and wordy textbooks am I unabashedly excited to be so up against every academic difficulty I'm currently facing?
Perhaps haste really does make waste and being lazy, well...only makes you lazy.
So off I go. To study. To learn. To be an intellectual and a theorist. And to become, yes, yet another exhausted, in-too-deep university student waiting to be the next novelist/great mind of America.
Lord, give me the strength!