Showed up at class ten minutes late, out of breath, and wearing the shirt I slept in, but I got my AmLit paper written and in on time. Had what I think was a fairly coherent and well-supported thesis about how the deconstruction of the home as a safe space in When The Emperor Was Divine mirrors the book's deconstruction of Japanese-American identity in WWII era US - better constructed than a lot of papers I've written, which is impressive considering I wrote it in two hours.
Came home to this email from my Victorian Lit Professor in my inbox:
"This is to inform you of the explicit nature of Wednesday and Friday's Victorian Sex class material. You are *not required* to attend these classes (and your grades will not suffer from your absence), but if you choose to come, please email me a confirmation that you understand we will be reading and viewing sexually graphic materials."
I love this class so much sometimes. I love all my classes. I love my major. Even if I hate writing all these thrice-damned papers.
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