Still Breathing

I've made it to finals. After writing four papers in four days. Four really crappy papers, but whatever. It's done, and that's the point. And my brain still works, even.

I'd been trying to figure out why I couldn't write papers the way I used to. It's getting harder to sit down, start writing, and three or four hours and five pages later, I'm done. And I think it is because I used to be in the habit of just sitting around and thinking before actually writing, and ever since, oh, sophomore year at Reed, I've felt more pressure to be always producing something, looking busy. And that doesn't work for me. Time spent doing nothing but mental work is not time wasted, and it's time I quit thinking it is. So, less "bisy backson"-ness and more contemplation.

In celebration of the end of classes, I went to Geckos last night and had a goodly amount of drink. Probably had a little more than originally intended, but I didn't have to stick around until closing time or anything. And one of my drinks was free. It's good to be friends with the bartender.

And now, having had my fun, it's time to study for the three finals that I have on Monday.