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Oct. 31st, 2008 03:00 pmI've been up and about since eight this morning. I have accomplished this:
Walked the dog; removed computer from said dog's mouth; loaded started the dishwasher; had breakfast, lunch and second lunch; read two chapters in the semi-awful sequel to Shadow of the Wind; and not written a productive word.
More Grammar must be done, and Am. Lit had to be handed in Yesterday a few weeks ago. The draft is a mess, and the disposition non-functional. All I end up doing is countering the points I intend to argue.
The study programme is heinous. There is no freedom for the next year and a half, approximately. There is grammar, grammar, more grammar and a bit of fonetics. When I finish Am. Lit. I am done with the literature courses for my BA. I intend to deal with as follows: complain, tear at my hair, be a sarcastic dimwit about it, and take additional courses that might – gasp! – interest me. Or worse, be somewhat relevant to my MA.
I just love that a BA in literature gets me nowhere, yet a BA in languages will certainly cause death by boredom. Norwegian schooling prevails all the way to university. And there is a master course on Woolf and narrative theory. Perhaps it is time I realise the education I want does not exist?
Walked the dog; removed computer from said dog's mouth; loaded started the dishwasher; had breakfast, lunch and second lunch; read two chapters in the semi-awful sequel to Shadow of the Wind; and not written a productive word.
More Grammar must be done, and Am. Lit had to be handed in Yesterday a few weeks ago. The draft is a mess, and the disposition non-functional. All I end up doing is countering the points I intend to argue.
The study programme is heinous. There is no freedom for the next year and a half, approximately. There is grammar, grammar, more grammar and a bit of fonetics. When I finish Am. Lit. I am done with the literature courses for my BA. I intend to deal with as follows: complain, tear at my hair, be a sarcastic dimwit about it, and take additional courses that might – gasp! – interest me. Or worse, be somewhat relevant to my MA.
I just love that a BA in literature gets me nowhere, yet a BA in languages will certainly cause death by boredom. Norwegian schooling prevails all the way to university. And there is a master course on Woolf and narrative theory. Perhaps it is time I realise the education I want does not exist?
