I call this agency

I'm moving through end of term like a Hoover. Just finished exam, one more and two papers to go. If it doesn't kill me... I will not be dead I guess. Perhaps my grumpy mood will improve in, oh, a week, when all this rushing about to get brain to work is over. At least until I start a summer class. Because summer school is fun! Scottish contemporary lit, what could be cooler than that.

Eating chinese take out, watching Hitler's secretary, going to bed. Tomorrow I have to finish up essay.

If anyone's keeping track, got back Wonder...Eliot/James essay I blogged about a week or two ago. A-, woo! Took a fiction course with the dog-lovin vintage kool Montreal fiction writer Tess Fragoulis--got me an A- too!

I have a question though, when, in all this brain-knit handiwork, do I have time to write the poems I got in me?