I am procrastinating again.
I have a paper due tomorrow, and I have about two sentences down. I know better than to leave it until the last second, but I find myself doing that anyway. It feels wonderful to be writing again, even though I’m not writing what I need to be writing.
Everything I’ve felt the past week, I kept it in, and I’m starting to feel it deep in my gut. Or maybe what I’m feeling is my stomach digesting itself, because the events have left me physically sick, and unable to eat.
I’m off to finish a Machu Picchu expository essay.