daniil's Journal: Stressée, moi? Jamais!

Well, maybe a bit. Maybe a lot (as evidenced by my current front page activities...). Or maybe I'm just tired from the day -- it's been a long one (at least by my standards). got up at seven, got to the library by nine and spent the next three hours there reading old literary journals (old = from 1941).

These journals were a bit strange to read. Not only because of their content (Stalinism at its finest), but also because of the paper they were printed on -- thick paper that had turned yellow in time, smelling of dust and old bookshelves. Also, in many cases, some of the pages of these 60-year-old journals were uncut -- noone had ever bothered to actually read this trite.

Then, at twelve, I had a seminar where I had to stand up and speak (oh! the horror!) about that bloody BA thesis I wrote last spring. No, I don't want to talk about it. I didn't really want to talk about it today, either, but still got my act together and did it. Yay me. Let it be said for the record that I hate speaking in public. It feels like pulling the words out with a pair of tongues.

In contrast, I don't seem to have a problem with acting -- at least not in front of people I know. After that seminar, I was left in the same lecture room with a few friends. We were talking about all sorts of stuff, and somehow, this turned into me giving them a "perfomance" on the subject of Nietzsche being dead (amongst other things). I also reduced all Philosohpy into a dot.

Then I spent another few hours in the library, and finally got home at seven.

And now I'm tired, so I think I'd better go to bed now.