I'm working on my last final paper now, the piece de resistance, the crown jewel of my Div I, the paper that's been floating in the back of my mind for weeks and weeks and yet couldn't seem to get written until today, the day that it is due (at Letterman's monologue, by the way, so I've got plenty of time). And I slept with the window open because it was so warm, which meant that the sound of buses awoke me by 7:30. And now, 1 hour later, I have an opening paragraph written. The hard part. Once I get into the rhythm, establish a structure and a place to go, I'll crank out a page every 20 minutes. I plan on giving you updates throughout the day, because maybe you're really bored. Right now, I'm hungry, but I don't know if SAGA's open. I've never had a reason to eat this early. I'm trying to figure out what the Queer Canadian Diaspora is, if it exists. I'll let you know how that goes.
Shortly after 9 am, paragraph 2 is done. I keep writing about things that aren't what I took my notes on. This happens every time. It's raining.
9:20 am: Paragraph 3 down, halfway through the 3rd page. Rain has let up. Still hungry, I'm finally in a place where I feel comfortable in this paper. Buses are very noisy outside, but I need the window open.
9:55 am: I'm onto the 5th page now. As usual, I'm using too many block quotes (2 so far, one from each book), but I feel like the material speaks really well for itself. Besides, my professor hasn't read the main work I'm dealing with, so he needs some context. The block quotes aren't just for length. I'm going to put some sort of clothing on and go eat something so I don't die.
10:28 am: Blood sugar momentarily restored, concentration utterly lost. Fair trade?
11:07 am: Having finally forced myself to continue writing a few minutes ago, I have now completed page 5. The cloud-filtered sunlight makes everything look really really green outside. Or maybe it's because it's so wet. In any case, it's gorgeous.
11:28: 6 and a half pages. Katie is awake.
11:50: I'm to the eighth page. Word is momentarily freaking out. The essay is starting to get really explicit, because it's Philip Roth and Joey Comeau and neither one is the kind of person to use G-rated vocabulary. We're sliding toward NC-17 here, as a matter of fact.
12:08: Page 8 is finished, and I am well into threesome territory. How on earth did I get so lucky to be at a school where the culmination of my first year is comparing two books based on the fact that they climax (pun only sort of intended) with a triumvirate? I love my life.
12:35: Almost done with the 10th page, putting off lunch until I reach a stopping point. The things I am writing in this paper shock me. It's fun.
12:45: At the top of the 11th page, I'm sliding into my conclusion. I am so hungry. I want to stop, but I'll never finish if I do. Gaaaaaah.
12:59: The 11th page is full and I haven't finished this thing yet. I had planned on 8-10 pages. This is what block quotes do to you.
1:06: At 12.5 pages, I stop. The ending is trite and I don't care because I'm hungry and maybe someone will help me edit it so that it's better. I am going to eat.
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