Thesaurus Rex (virtuistic) wrote,
Thesaurus Rex

  • Mood:
  • Music:


Double-you tea eff, Siriusly.

This could be, quite possibly, the most irritating paper I've ever written. The only thing that's good about it is the title. HOWEVER! It's totally, and I'd like to reiterate this several times, not my fault. This assignment is shit. Who's it for? You guessed it, Sadie McPaperfiend. This topic is even more absurd than the first. Impressive, I know. I see your eyebrows swaggling, combating for the highest spot on your brow, unable to completely illustrate the confusion and shock in quite the same way that your dropped jaw can. The combination of both, however, I find quite befitting - not to mention extremely amusing. I'm comforted by your empathy, and I thank you.

No, I mean it. Still, I can't help but feel guilty about the shoddy work. Remember: not my fault. How else am I supposed to incorporate three different texts that are most emphatically not in agreement with one another? I have to reconcile them and manipulate them into supporting my thesis within 4 pages. HOW?! The mere guidelines for the paper would be longer than the paper had McPaperfiend double-spaced them! Pardon me whilst I fail to contain my resentment! *huff*

I'm at a loss here. I mean, the bugger took me ages to write and in the process made me incredibly insecure about myself as a writer. Until this paper, I prided myself on my ability to effectively B.S. my way through anything, the almost criminal tendency to blow through a 10 page paper in less than 2.5 hours and still get an A, and, of course, general aptitude and brilliance. This risible writing nightmare has made my nonexistant balls shrink, deflated my ego, made me whimper like a child, and curse like a sailor in one fell swoop. Rest assured, Faith was quite amused, the slimy trollop.

My only solace is that the bastard is finally completed. Hopefully I won't have to revisit it to make many revisions, and with any luck McPaperfiend will buy it all hook, line, and sinker because face it, it's still total shite. It hurts me to say it. Arrogant as I may be about my writing, this causes me actual physical pain and yet I want no further truck with it. I feel so ashamed. Still, I am holding on to one shred of fact that may save me from the ruins of this terrible evening: it's not my fault. With that, I retire. Adieu.

ETA: Really wonderful conversation with Matt has sufficiently brightened my spirits. I think I might be able to survive tomorrow! Huzzah!
ETA2: Weatherbug currently says the wind chill is 65,535 degrees. Joe says, "I'm glad I'm not out in that." I concur. HEE!
ETA3: All of the ETA-ing occurs at 4 in the morning. Good Christ...
  • Post a new comment


    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

  • 1 comment