Finished my two large papers of the end of the semester last night. Only have a handful of really small papers left. Doing some reading. Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse. Planning some Henry James after that. Short works. Haven't done much creative writing of my own for the past week or two, other than a really dumb story wrote last monday. I feel like I've exhausted all my ideas, but I know that's never possible.
Anyways, less than two weeks left in England. Coming home the 18th. Wow, that's only 12 days. At one point it felt like home was a year away. I am ready to come home. I think when I get home I'll stay in my room for a week and sleep all day in my bed that doesn't have awful springs poking into my back like the one here. I've gotten used to the springs. Listening to Bon Iver.
It's an exceptionally foggy day in Cheltenham. Maybe I'll just sleep all day.
You have called me; You know my name.
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