2004-01-13 - 4:29 a.m.
dear diary,
one class down, three to go.
i won't stop being nervous until thursday at 3pm when i can come home and forget about school for 3.5 days.
i was worried about the fiction class but the teacher recognized me from the poetry forum a few semesters ago. small world.
someone said my style of writing might be too existential for the class, and though it was probably a warning, i gloated anyway.
i guess i'm more interested in writing about a lack of conflict that essentially becomes the conflict.
the professor said she hoped i could pull it off.
so maybe i'll just shortcut and write the crap they want to read. or maybe i'll say fuck them all and do what i want.
one thing is certain, something that becomes rapidly apparent every new semester...
i won't be making any friends in this class.