Rooms Of My Own
January 17, 2012 § Leave a comment
- The dining room table: Okay. I am going to start working on my BA in exactly 3 minutes. 4 PM sharp. Oh, shit. I should probably have my books. And a pen. And I guess a notebook. Okay, push back to 4:05. If I start writing then, and I can write 500 words an hour, I’ll have five pages in…never mind. Let’s just focus on getting some reading done. Look at the Latin. Lavinia is boring. Literally all she does in the Aeneid is catch on fire! And why does Old-French Aeneas give her dad Dido’s ring? Like, “Hey, I’m destined to marry your daughter, so here’s some crap my dead ex-girlfriend gave me. By the way, I’m not gay!”*
- The couch: Cue perfect soundtrack for YA romance. Katy Perry or Kelly Clarkson? Neither. Wait, ooh, Vanessa Carlton! Do you remember her, even? Or Michelle Branch. She’s got lots of feelings. All right. Close Facebook. Close Reddit. Try to write a convincing love story. Why do I always make my heroines so tall? And their best friends drive minivans and are super-smart? And their parents are always college professors? That’s two-thirds me and one-third aspiration. I should just marry off all my characters to John Cusack and be done with it.
- The bed: I can totally watch a paper and write Parks and Recreation at the same time. I mean…shit.
- The library bookstacks: Foucault was right. There is literally no difference between this place and a prison cell. The academic Panopticon! Ha. That guy in the alcove looks like he’s asleep or dead. Jesus. I’m going to finish this paragraph extra fast and never come back here again. I don’t care if it means I have to make up definitions for Old French words because I can’t get to the big Dictionnaire Greimas. I am actually losing my mind.
- The coffee shop: Is that guy looking at my screen? Is that guy looking at my screen? Wait, maybe he’s just getting up to get soy milk or something. If I cover the screen it will be obvious I am hiding something. Oh my God, they can all totally tell I’m not writing something academic. They are judging me. Dammit! I just had to be working on the climactic scene where the spurned high-school heroine makes out with the witty college student on the dock of her friend’s lake house. I wouldn’t even take me seriously around here.
- The coffee table: Okay, I am going to start working on my BA in exactly six minutes. Or once this episode of Parks and Rec is over.
*For some reason everyone in Old France thinks he is