guanin

Why, despite a week of reading up on Mexican politics, do I feel as if I know nothing? I have random ideas shooting off in my head, but the details have faded away, dates and elections all confused and I don't know which way's up. I miss writing about the Mexican Revolution. I can't believe I just wrote that. But it's easier than this! *grumble* stupid politics and it's tiny details and it's numbers*grumble* And why did does the professor have to specialize on Mexico? The man probably knows every last little corner about the subject I'm doing! Ah!

This is going to suck. Screw it. I just want to pass. That's it. Never mind that I just spent an hour writing one hundred words. *head desk* I could have written 1,000 words of fic in that time.

I actually keep looking at the clock, asking myself if I can go to bed now just to avoid this thing. No, honey, you cannot go to bed at 8:15. I haven't even been up 12 hours yet!

My brain is turning into mush. *chants* Only two more essays left. Only two more essays left.

FYI, the Mexican Revolution is insane! At least studying it is. There are a dozen different guys spread out all over the place with their little support groups killing each other. Okay, not all of them were killing each other, but I think there's only one leader who escaped assassination. Why do I put myself in these situations? It is fascinating stuff, though, but perhaps when one has a bit more time and no deadline hanging over one's head. There is a reason why it's called a deadline.

In other news, I'm going to a Bolivian carnival on Saturday. I don't care how much I've read or haven't read. I'm going out with a woman from my class, essays be damned.

The newly refurbished lift broke down yesterday. Not surprising, since both the lifts have been intermittently out of service for no reason I can explain, since they've been working on them since last term. How long does it take to fix these things? But supposedly last night's gaffe was due to too many people cramming themselves into it, for there was a note. I just laughed. The brand new lift can't handle eight people. Granted, it is a small lift, but come on. The lifts at my first uni in Chicago were ancient, creaky, and kept shaking as if at any moment the wires holding it would break and we'd all plummet to our deaths. The sign under the buttons requested that no more than ten people ride it at once. During the peak of classes, there were no less than fifteen of us crammed in there until there was barely air to breathe. Not once in the whole year did I did one of them not working.