*and it's also true that i lost the map. 2001-11-11 5:57 p.m.*
why do papers fill me with such a feeling of sad. i just wrote the first sentence of my paper on orientalism, and now want to crawl under my covers until it is all over. i don't know what "it all" is, but it's big and scary and mean. why am i so five-years-old about things i don't want to do? there are worse things than having to write papers. my opportunity to write papers means that i'm incredibly privileged. more privileged than anyone in my family has been. i'm pretty spoiled, really. but these papers feel like ripping my fingernails out, or like my brain is smashing itself around in my skull in rebellion. okay. enough with the whinges. time for buckling down. something i've never been good at.
