Black Swamp Blues

So today marks the beginning of another month, and the death to January. There will never be another January spent in school. It also means I'm another rent payment poorer.

I met with Dr. Shrude, the second member of my thesis committee. She didn't shoot down too much of my thesis. Actually, it went better than I expected. It's my move now, until my lesson with Dr. Lillios on Friday. Rook takes Queen.

Tonight was a recital consisting solely of compositions by the faculty. Something about this has added to the already sour taste in my mouth. I can't put my finger on it.

Everything seems to blur together. Looking back on my time here (in the Black Swamp region, as it's called), it's been unnecessarily dark. What happened? Am I better off than when I arrived? Or have I been corrupted by the eternal crusade of conflicting academic ideals? Have I accumulated my ten burdens and been corrupted? I think I'm up to nine. About nine and a half. I got a great polaroid of it; it must be nine and a half.

Well, I'll save the hindsight for a few months from now. I'm still fighting the good fight. I just wonder what the ultimate price will be. Irreparable psychological damage? Probably.

A lot of things are grating on me. Any presumptuous comment these days irritates me. Especially any off-hand remark that puts my work ethic into question. Just because I was sitting in the lounge for a while, making love to my cup of coffee, doesn't mean I don't have enough to do. It means I did a ton of it already, and I'm conserving my energy before the next onslaught. Sometimes it's permissable to loiter in the basement lounge and banter with my fellows.

Besides, coffee is good for you. It's practically a vegetable.