Well, its me again. In the library, pretending to do work. Its been another typical day. Still no closer to completing the 2,500 word essay that I have been working on all week. Just came back from class as a matter of fact. Russian Literature of the 19th Century. (Don’t you just love the way the name Dostoyevsky runs off of the tongue?) But I wonder how I can read a book for 4 weeks and still only be half of the way through? I have no idea. Talent, perhaps. Thus its no wonder why I am perpetually behind in that class. It is exceedingly difficult to talk intelligently about a book that you have not yet read. I attempted to do so just now in class to test the theory out. I must report that it is true; You can not talk intelligently about a book that you have not read. I believe now. I now pass my experiential knowledge to you.

In one of my more lucid moments yesterday, I sent a few poems over to the Caribbean Writer. I’ll let you know how that goes. This will be my second attempt at trying to get published in that journal. More likely than not I’ll get another wonderful rejection email. We shall see though. Hope springs eternal for the slothful writer. I have some stuff in publication purgatory, limbo if you will. You submit work. It’s accepted. It’s only that the magazine won’t be out for another 20 years or so. Like the poem from C.O.B‘s forum on race and ethnicity? Or Yinna volume 2? Fuhggeddabouddit! Anyway off to work on the essay again.

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