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Somehow, sipping scorchingly hot chocolate, getting my hands sooty from stoking the fire and reading anything but coursematerial, is a lot more tempting than revision-deathmarch. (Yes, you could leave the last comma out, but I will not get rid of them; I maintain that they are a stylistic matter, and my commas are staying. I want you to pause there. What playwright was it that instructed the actors not to leave out his commas like that?)
The revision-deathmarch must go on, in spite of temptation. I deserved doing unrelated things after taking the dog for a three-hour walk, anyway. Faulkner, Williams, Salinger, Plath, Bishop, Morrison, Erdich and Hwang left.
Oh, we're playing christmas songs for the first time this year. I love this time of year. How can anyone be depressed by the lack of light?
The revision-deathmarch must go on, in spite of temptation. I deserved doing unrelated things after taking the dog for a three-hour walk, anyway. Faulkner, Williams, Salinger, Plath, Bishop, Morrison, Erdich and Hwang left.
Oh, we're playing christmas songs for the first time this year. I love this time of year. How can anyone be depressed by the lack of light?