Twenty Seven Weeks

I’m feeling kind of writerly right now. It’s a good thing, considering how I have another paper due, two really, if I want to give myself a wee bit of breathing room. My latest paper is on the gender and racial constuction within James Baldwin’s “Going to Meet the Man.” It’s a terrifically horrifying story, one that constructs one white man’s entire sexual identity as a negation of blackness.

It’s a fertile topic, anyway.

Since my lap top has gone to the Laptop Heaven in the Sky (or at least, Best Buy), I’m currently at a loss, doing most of my homework from a PC, which is a very strange feeling. Luckily for me, after the incident last year which involved my falling asleep over a fully caffeinated and sugared coke, I bought an accident protection plan which, oddly enough, expired five days after this year’s coffee incident.

Close calls, indeed.

Barring any major crisis, I have twenty seven weeks (or, more accurately twenty six weeks and 5 days) until my education as an undergraduate is over. This was the thought that kept me awake at work last night, enjoying that hour of extra pay while the rest of the world slept it away.

But for now, I’m off to write that paper before I totally lose that writin’ feeling.

It’s slipping away already.


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