Eggs

I'm trying to finish an essay. And as weird as this may sound, I keep imaging myself chasing after the essay, who is running around in a forest somewhere with its pants off and cackling at the top of its lungs. 

I'm not sure why. Sometimes I just get these thoughts in my head and for the most part they're pretty amusing.

I guess it's because I'm having such a hard time writing the conclusion that I picture a stack of paper, just out of reach, scampering through the woods like a raving lunatic. But maybe the essay is metaphor for me, considering how I've been feeling a little like a psych-ward patient lately.

People can only go through so much before they start to crack. I'm that egg you're hard-boiling that's starting to ooze icky white stuff.

 

My luck might be changing though. This morning I woke up, thought I'd lost a library book and then the email I got from the school library saying the book I'd put on hold (the one I thought I'd lost) is now available for me to pick up. I know it's small and kind of irrelevant now that I've chosen a different play to read but it feels nice that something good has happened.

But the pressure is on now and I've got basically 2 weeks to figure everything out.

I hope my bitchy blog fest is over. I hope the next time we talk/you read/I write I'll have something great to tell you!