(no subject)
Jul. 26th, 2009 11:08 pmI'm so tired and frustrated. I can't tell what's actually causing frustration and what's only annoying me because I'm already frustrated, which is making it worse.
I've been trying to keep on top of all of my obnoxious academic reading,* in addition to rereading the stuff I need for that talk on Thursday. It's exhausting, but I've always felt like a fraud so I have to take every opportunity to keep up. Besides, it makes me feel like I'm doing something important.
I feel like I'm waiting for something. Like I'm killing time. I've sent off a few more resumes, but I don't think that this is about employment. I just can't grasp the idea that this point, this moment, is the culmination of everything I've done since being born. It's like being on an escalator. All I ever do is stand around and hope that there's a destination.
How many hours am I awake? If I could just spend one week working as hard as I can, I could turn my life around. There's so much tedious leisure in my life. It's not even pleasurable anymore. I want to get up and go.
I don't know what's stopping me.
* Side note: Literary criticism is a legitimate academic field, not just a bunch of people sitting around with bongos talking about how far out their favorite books are and using a bunch of long words to make themselves sound smart. This should go without saying, but I'm snippy because I've been getting a lot of 'oh, you're so lucky that you don't have to do real work' recently.
I've been trying to keep on top of all of my obnoxious academic reading,* in addition to rereading the stuff I need for that talk on Thursday. It's exhausting, but I've always felt like a fraud so I have to take every opportunity to keep up. Besides, it makes me feel like I'm doing something important.
I feel like I'm waiting for something. Like I'm killing time. I've sent off a few more resumes, but I don't think that this is about employment. I just can't grasp the idea that this point, this moment, is the culmination of everything I've done since being born. It's like being on an escalator. All I ever do is stand around and hope that there's a destination.
How many hours am I awake? If I could just spend one week working as hard as I can, I could turn my life around. There's so much tedious leisure in my life. It's not even pleasurable anymore. I want to get up and go.
I don't know what's stopping me.
* Side note: Literary criticism is a legitimate academic field, not just a bunch of people sitting around with bongos talking about how far out their favorite books are and using a bunch of long words to make themselves sound smart. This should go without saying, but I'm snippy because I've been getting a lot of 'oh, you're so lucky that you don't have to do real work' recently.
no subject
Date: 2009-07-27 03:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-27 06:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-27 06:55 am (UTC)Good luck!!!!
no subject
Date: 2009-07-27 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-29 07:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-07-27 11:27 pm (UTC)