There are a quarter million documents open on my desktop right now. Alright, slight exaggeration—there are only four, and one of them is a revised assignment sheet.
But the fact remains: there’s a lot due this week. Big, long papers, trailing ahead of me, rolling off into the distance. Miles and miles of blank pages that I need to fill. With…things.
First up is the paper for a course covering American novels. I’m writing my paper on the allegory in Stowe’s Uncle Tom’s Cabin. Most of the commentary I’ve read on the book was written by professors with radical feminist agendas who can’t help but see Stowe’s woman-driven plotline as an attempt to supplant the patriarchy. Whatever. These people didn’t read the book. Stowe was more enthusiastic about people understanding the Gospel—and, of course, that just because someone’s skin is darker doesn’t make him subhuman. Her point was that the eyes of faith are colorblind. Ooh. I like that phrase.
Second up is a paper for a course in modern poetry. It’s a comparative essay (1,000 words long) that analyzes Robert Frost’s “The Oven Bird” and “Never Again Would Birds’ Song Be the Same.” Both center on the theme of lost innocence, and use the biblical Fall as their primary metaphor. In both poems, birds are the primary communicators, and are the voice of the poet. That’s all I’ve got. Hopefully I can say it 1,000 words.
Why am I not writing them right now, you ask?
I had a teacher move a revision deadline (another paper, another class) to Saturday at midnight. That means I don’t have to worry about getting it done by Thursday afternoon, as was the case before. After all that internal agony, it turns out I’m not about to be destroyed.
Now, I’ve got a test tomorrow for which my brain is too tired to study. That’ll get done in good time. For now, seven hours of blissful sleep, and coffee in the morning.