Inspiration Lost > Inspiration Regained.

Philology is like pulling teeth. Actual proper respectable textual study is like pulling teeth. And this is only a 2000 word undergrad essay!
This morning, I contemplated throwing it all in and taking up undertaking. Or signwriting, something.

Instead of having a cup of tea and cheering myself up, i spent an hour sending snarky emails to Melanie, complaining about her subject. The current Essay of Doom isn't for her, but it's the same field. We have established that the teeth-pulling feeling isn't a result of who's marking it, but simply a side effect of writing Anglo-Saxon essays. Thus, undertaking looks better by the minute.
Anyway. Melanie, being a lovely person, told me that I don't have the demeanor for undertaking, so I should stick with anglo-saxonism. Then goblinpaladin came around this afternoon and helped me bash out the sense of the last part of the essay. So things were looking up.

College formal dinner this evening, the guest speaker was Peter Cousens. Who is a magnificent storyteller, and burst into song in the middle of the dining hall, and it was all cool. He told us all about the new musical his company, Kookaburra, are putting on. Entitled Floyd Collins, it's about a Kentucky farmer in the 20s who goes searching for limestone caves- searching for a dream- and becomes trapped. Cousens said several things toward the end, which I don't remember very clearly. Something about blind faith and human endeavour and achieving crazy dreams.

So much for signwriting. Here I am, and here I go- in search of a crazy dream. And the pursuit of a crazy dream starts here, on this battered laptop, with The Dream of the Rood.

(all of that is code for: i feel inspired again, but not so inspired as to write the essay rather than blogging about it)