the library

I have nothing funny to say today, because there is nothing funny about essays or essay deadlines. Even when they have passed the last few days that you spent submerged in you're writing feel dreamy and surreal. It's like you've dive into Microsoft Word to grapple with tangled, confusing arguments, points, citations and bullshit.

You become one with the essay. You can't distinguish between it and your life. And it is this inability to detach yourself that leaves you clueless as to what you've just electronically submitted at the end of the day. It's not like you'll ever look at it again, you fear that you'll realise what you've just submitted is 200o words of nothing.

The other killer is sitting in the library for nigh on 48 hours, supping on stuffy second hand air.