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All Play and No Essay Makes Lia a Bad Girl
October 08, 2003, 1:39 a.m. Dear Bernard Gui, I know I'm supposed to be writing an essay on you right now, but I'm so very, very tired. I'd like to apologise for wasting the past half hour flitting about Diaryland, doing nothing in particular, when I should have been typing furiously away at my keyboard. I am typing now, if that helps, and it is about you, or more, to you, but no, it's not the essay. I know, I know, it's a disservice to you. You're an interesting guy, really, and you're not as bad as Umberto Eco makes you out to be, but I only got about four hours sleep last night, and my body can't last on Pepsi Max forever. I just want to curl up and sleep, but I have to get up super early tomorrow to return books about you to the library, so I absolutely must finish this essay tonight. Perhaps it would get written faster if I wasn't writing letters to long-dead French Dominicans . . .
Much love and reformed opinions, (PS, Please excuse me if I sound disjointed, it's that whole lack of sleep thing, you know?)
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