[Previous entry: "Didn't work"] [Next entry: "The good old days"]
12/02/2003: "Stupid papers"
I am sitting here trying to write a five-page paper that is due on Wednesday. So far I've written an intro paragraph that I've deleted and restored about five times. Yay for progress. Something tells me that it's not going to happen tonight. The professor, who isn't even a real professor, has left us in the dark about what we're supposed to write, and asking him questions doesn't help much, since he answers everything except the question. He's someone from the county prosecutor's office, and I think it was a big mistake to ask him to teach us. He doesn't even teach, he comes in and asks us questions for three hours about what we think should happen in certain situations. I think he's trying to get us to do his job for him.
After this, I get to tackle a fifteen-page paper about lord-knows-what for the vampire English class. I think I should be excused from this since I'm not an English major. I don't need practice spouting bullshit about Freud and violent sex, which is basically what the class has turned out to be.
I doubt Freud ever had violent sex.