I was such a thoughtful, reflective agoraphobic book reader writer-person. why am I doing this to myself?

My overly ambitious little toe is begging for mercy, and quiet and solitude and will grovel, plead, and bellydance!...anything to not have to give my first speech in my public speaking class tomorrow. Day 2 of class! gah. The topic is myself - anything even just something I like, and I have ideas, but nothing written out. And it must be 3 minutes. And there must be an outline minimum.

On a positive note, the instructor for the class is very much a living replica of Mr. Magoo, but with a disheveled mop of hair.

On a sad note my poetry instructor's comma usage is dreadful and her syllabus is a grammattically incorrect poem needing to be deciphered, and rewritten with semi-colons. I have already successfully written a few bad poems for the class!

I will now proceed to pass out, quite soberly, and hopefully not wake up till this is all over.

At school I saw a bumpersticker that read:
Eshew Obfuscation

We read a lot of pointless and wordy and repeating poetry over-read to have meaning...

But I learned 'anaphora'...over and over and over and...

I think of all the obfuscation awaiting me this semester.

~e