Computers may all burn in hell! I just spent twenty minutes determining that the reserve I was searching for at the library was not there. I saw Mark Spence there, so I suspect he hadn't put his stuff on reserve yet. Sigh. I'll have to do it sometime tonight, between going out to dinner with Mark and movie night (Minority Report, which is apparently now out on DVD). Yeah. Academics above socializing, academics above socializing. I'll just keep repeating that. I think I'll be all right, though...I have all day tomorrow before Russian Novels to read for Historian's Workshop.
Did I mention my term of death? I'm taking three very difficult, very required classes for major and minor: Fiction Workshop, Russian Novels of the Golden Age (world literature outside Anglo-American tradition requirement), and Historian's Workshop. 285, 307, and 330. Yeeep. At Knox, that equals suicide. Trouble is, I'm already tempted to do the same thing next term -- Poetry Workshop (308), Environmental Lit (295) and a 300-level history class to be determined. We'll see if I'm still alive by then. It would be nice though, because then my senior year would be like bullshit class heaven. Senior Portfolio, one more workshop, and maybe a couple other requirements that don't come to mind at the moment, and that'd be all that's left. Yeah. Visualizing class schedules is way too much fun. I should probably declare my history minor sometime, uh, before I graduate!! Another thing on the list to ask Monica about.
Can I not be nervous about my other two classes? I'm nervous for Fiction because I'm practically writer's block personified and I'm terrified I'll suck at it. Russian Novels because I'm really scared Matthew's going to be in my class, because he's a Russian Studies major. I saw him today and it was the worst thing ever. So very awkward. Yeah, can't wait for track practice. I just feel horrible whenever I see him or think about him. And since we're in the same sports and we share the smallest college campus in the history of the universe (plus he lives directly across the freaking street from me--and right across the hall from Mark), that ends up happening more than once a day. It's just so ridiculous. Even if we can't be friends, we're teammates and acquaintances, and we should at least be able to look at each other and say hello. So. Tired. Of. This.