I am writing at fucking 200 words per hour. After every paragaph I want nothing more than to lay down and do fucking nothing. I am writing this between paragraphs because the idea of writing about early 20th century European realpolitik fills me with utter dread. I don’t fucking care about Clemenceau I don’t care. I hate him, I hate them all. Why did I even take a modern history course I hate modern history all of these people are awful.
I wanna write about ancient art and religion dammit. I’m tired. Atleast with meds I could power through this. Bang it out and move on with my life. But noooooooo, I forgot to make an appointment with my doctor so now I don’t get meds for a month and it takes me 3 days to write a 2500 word paper. The essay is already fucking late. I’m in my closet pacing rn.

