Searching Buddha

Wow, check out the date of the last post. How have three weeks passed so quickly?

Well, when you live in a carrel at the library, time does seem to fly. I'm considering having my mailing address changed to the Rosenthal Library, Basement Floor, Carrel 5C, but since the library and I are in a current disagreement over the fate of a library book that I returned in November that they seem to have lost, perhaps this is not a way of getting myself back into librarian graces.

Note to folks: avoid the book drop outside the library if you can. It seems to eat books. You will be lectured repeatedly by librarians for your irresponsibility and general disregard of the santity of the tomes within, even when you don't deserve it and have explained several times why you don't. Somehow librarians have a magical way of making you feel like you're five again and your mother just used your middle name.

But as for the actual paper, I find that I'm enjoying myself quite a lot. It's been a long time since I've written a real research paper and even longer since I've written a paper that has nothing to do with a work of literature. I keep finding myself fascinated and inspired by my topic, though I still maintain that it was madness to try and write a decent draft of it in a month, particularly while reading that "not long" book of 500-some dense pages. And, oh yeah, juggling the rest of my life.

I do think a good part of that is my fault for choosing a topic that requires so much research; I plan to spend the break actually reading the rest of the books that I'm using as sources. I've only been able to read a couple of chapters here and there from each one and I feel like I'm really missing something yet.

At this point, I feel like I've run a marathon. Yet, I just learned the other day of the existence of 37.5 mile races, which is probably the most apt analogy. The marathon is down...just that extra half marathon left to go. But won't the exercise burn feel good at the end, aching joints and muscles aside? And once we've forgotten the pain of that last sprint, we'll always look back at our glory days and talk about our accomplishments.

As Ani Difranco says, people are 90% metaphor. Does that mean that people are 90% dream?