I've come to the conclusion that college involves much more work at the present time than I had initially believed, the first extremely difficult task of the semester being that I have to write the first two paragraphs of an essay on The Iliad for tomorrow.

I have to remind myself every five or so minutes that despite the fact that this seems easy, I need only refer to an essay written by the genius (and my intellectual girl crush) who shall forever remain only slightly anonymous with the pseudonym Dickinson (like Emily Dickinson, the depressed yet talented writer who killed herself by sticking her head in an oven while her toddler son played with his toys in the other room -- yes, that one -- wait, no, not that one...that was Plath) to realize how clearly incompetent I am when it comes to writing. Even if I were to spend the next fifty years under the harsh training of my current English professor, every fibre of my being would hardly be able to compare to the writing talent of one iota of Dickinson. It's no wonder the girl is on her way to becoming this ridiculously successful modern-day Dickinson-like lawyer (minus the morbid suicide, of course).

The sad part of this whole story is that even though I should be working on the essay right now, I'm skipping class (right before midterms too, smart Sophia, you) and blogging about how miserably untalented I am when it comes to academic writing. However, on the bright side, I'm quite happy that I was able to catch Cloudy with A Chance of Meatbealls in 3-D with The Monkey last night.

That is all.

Labels: college 1, dickinson, gee, geek, the monkey