Bright Lights

Another school week draws to a close, and although I plan to head to the big city again this weekend, I admit to feeling a little blue; perhaps the reasons for it are that I haven't done as much schoolwork as I would have liked, and last weekend was not among my very favorites. I feel a vague, inchoate apprehension stalking around in my chest, above my stomach, toward a repetition or extension of events from last weekend. Fortunately, one accomplishment that I managed to pull off was a meeting with the registrar. (I actually missed two previous appointments before I finally handed in the appropriate forms, so I was compelled to offer a couple of abject apologies. It was interesting to me that although, my apologies were neither arch or dramatic, the secretary seemed to have been embarrased by them, making me wonder if she believes apology to be some expression of a kind of self-deprecating guilt.)

This upcoming week, I will really need to bear down on the mid-term assignments for The Mill on the Floss, and at least start one of my other papers, either on Laura Esqiuvel or E.M. Forster. I enjoy writing and reading; I really do. But I've discovered that, while blogging is nice, it - much like an impish goblin - compels me to surf the web for far too long. (Really, I take responsibility for my own goofing off, but practicing the art of self-discipline is something that I jealously want to acquire.)