Wednesday, September 3, 2014 @ 9/03/2014 11:25:00 PM
Just had a stunning tutorial presentation by a student for my Romanticism mod. Super impressed by how he seriously took the time to cross reference sources and got materials to define what is "sonnets". His mini essay includes words like "explicate", "ontological" and "protean" and "polyvalent". WTF right. Talked to him after that and found out that he transferred from NUS Law to do Lit.
Feeling so stressed now to maintain such high standards of presentation for my the subsequent tutorials (mine is on Bronte's 900 page long novel Villette.) So many things to do and I am so lazy. The thing is, I am not even complaining that I am busy because I don't even feel it. Yet.
Thursdays are the worst. Last week Thursday was 9-9 and I'm amazed I live to tell the tale. 6 hours of lectures, 1 hour of tutorial followed by a seminar talk with a Minister from Trade and Industry which I agreed impulsively to cover the event for NES. Ended up making a fool of myself oh wells, at least people and the MP found me funny.
I like to make to-do-list but I never like "to doing" them.
1. Read finish A Portrait of a Young Man as an Artist. Seriously. It's. Like. The. Last. Few. Pages. Already. Just. Do. It. I am dying because of this book. Mark smartly guessed that I hated it. She called me "traditional" in my taste and I decide to take it as a compliment. While this book is also considered "modernist" in some sense ( modernist =hard to read) I found "lighthouse" hard to read in a good way, but this is just completely repulsive +draining.
2. Catch up on readings. 19th C readings, Einstein's discoveries, NM notes and 20th C's readings of the reading. This is a shitload of readings and I am not even including reading in advance.
3. NM1101E interview assignment due.
4. Churn out MTI article.
5. Churn out content for OCIP website.
6. Prepare crowdfunding content.
Don't feel anything these days except a sense of numbness to "just keep swimming", "just keep swimming". No happiness. No joy. No sadness. No anger. Except a sense of impending doom.