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Today is my cocoon day.

I shall not budge from this room until the last of Machiavelli's The Prince is read and understood. Same with Plato's Republic.

No. Not moving. Not until I've finished all the reading and written my paper for Sociology. This time I'm allowing enough time in the day so I'm not finishing it at 3 a.m.

Seems like every time I begin a paper, it appears insurmountable. I think, "There is no possible way I can write five pages on this."

Then I suddenly begin and I have four and a half before I need to think about stretching it at all. It's very weird- the writing demon nudges me aside and says in this superhero voice, "I'll save you, fair maiden."

So yeah. I'm calling him out. Ready when you are... I guess I'll name him Bob. Ready when you are, Bob.

He nudges me on the arm and says, "Get off the internet first, dumbass."

Oh. Right. Oops.

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