literary fatigue

For the past two days I have discovered the library. I've picked myself a spot, a caral (sp?) on the 2nd floor on the north side by a window. It's a bit drafty, given to me frequenting it in the evening hours when the temp outside is near freezing. I like the feeling of peace and quiet and the underlying atmosphere of intellect I seem to more easily find. Yet another reason to not do homework in my room. I haven't been in my room for more than an hour or so in several days. I've hardly slept in my own bed.

I have papers looming ahead of me. Not too threatening yet, I just wrote one last night to be handed in this morning. But I have drafts due at the beginning of the week and a 1-5 page play to be written over the weekend. I've chosen topics that need reseach, first about the life of Tennessee Williams and now about Marx's theories....yet another book for me to reading over the weekend because i feel i must. But i love how the papers are somewhat spaced out. Or atleast they aren't due for another 2-3 weeks- right before Thanksgiving.