this was not what I wanted

One of those days when all you want to do is hide.

But on the brighter side. I talked with Professor P. about the graduate program in Czech at UT, and I feel better about it now. One less thing to stress about. I made absolutely ridiculous mistakes on my exam, and I think I will stay home tonight to study.

what I'm reading is not for class

I should be studying theories of foreign policy and what Henry Kissinger thinks about American exceptionalism. Instead I'm practicing typing SSNs and reading this book I bought last week. Pushkin House by Andrei Bitov. Professor L. is teaching it in his modern lit class this semester. He would read me random passages, enthralled with the language or the image he'd found. Sometimes it was just a hilarious obscenity. Since they didn't have any of my missing text books, I bought this. To read on my own, since all those passages left me hanging.

I want to be an academic. I want an office with bookshelves on two walls, a window. I want to write articles and books. I want to sit on top of the desk and tell undergrads bizarre stories. i want to help them write their papers. I want to take my class outside and make them fly kits, tell them it has some connection with the books we're discussing.

Sick of typing. No one is around anyways to talk. Shower and bed. That's all I want right now.