On Wednesday my Second Great Spanish Report (GSR II) is due. The First Great Spanish Report (GSR I), which caused much agony for one weekend, ended up being worthy of elementary school, but also apparently worthy of a good grade, which I guess should give me some kind of hope to cling to for the success of GSR II.
But it doesn't.
The books and articles I have to read stack up like . . . well, like unread books and articles.
And today my mind has been everywhere but my paper. At least I did one smart thing today and decided to get out and wash my car since I wasn't accomplishing anything at the computer (that is, unless adding Facebook friends counts as an accomplishment).
In other news, I don't think I like spring.
I mean, I really really do like spring.
That's the problem. Something in the air, and the long long afternoons, and the sound the crickets make, and having my window open for a long time at night . . . it always makes me wish I were somewhere else or doing something else.
It also makes me want to work on my novel, and craft some kind of epic with love and war and betrayal and forgiveness and sacrifice and maybe a mistaken identity or a spontaneous human combustion.
Maybe what I need to do is re-read War and Peace. Or Bleak House.
Yeah, yeah. !!!
And then work on the Spanish report . . .