Reflection

This semester was not my favorite in terms of what I wrote. I am finishing up some distribution requirements, so I had a couple 100 level classes that didn’t have any writing at all, and I am not super proud of what I did end up writing for my two other classes. My capacity for procrastination actually got worse; I’ve never put anything off as long as I did with a couple papers this year. The longest paper I have ever written, 12 pages on sex positive education, was possibly the biggest train wreck. By the end of the weekend that I spent writing it, I was too burned out to edit it thoroughly.

It isn’t that my writing has gotten worse, at least I don’t think so. But writing papers has taken on this route feeling, like I’ve done this before a thousand times and will do the exact same thing a thousand more. The middle of the night grind is not particularly inspiring. This is, of course, partially my fault for waiting until the last minute when everything that can possibly be produced is the essay equivalent of cafeteria food- there is a lot of it, and it looks okay, but it all sort of tastes like potatoes.

Sigh.

So anyway, I’m taking an English class next semester to get out of this funk because that usually helps (see my earlier post). Any of you feel that way about papers sometimes?

 

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