I seem to wake up last night and realize that I have been postponing some things that certainly Ought Not to be Postponed, like a midterm and two papers and the reading of a good 500 pages. Not that it will be absolutely difficult; they are all for the same professor and I am well into the rhythm of these classes. I still look a little bit like this, though.
I am finishing up Peredur today, rereading a lot of Old English poetry in a hideous modern translation (excepting Pound, of course), and parading Sherlock Holmes' deductive reasoning around shamelessly with a lot of obvious conclusions about origin, feeling, theme, and other poetic devices. Also to do on the list is an outline for that paper--tomorrow I will sit at the library and type it up (I can also be sneaky and take something to book-cross).
I have a cafe latte on one side of my desk, a bottle of water on the other, and a packet of peanut M&Ms. I've shoved everything from my desk (well almost everything) into someplace where it won't bother me, and now I should be ready to yell a battle cry and plunge into the studying binge I've been hoping to accomplish since the last time it happened . . . Somehow, I feel strangely reluctant. Oh, well. Tally-ho.