(no subject)

I feel ridiculously uninspired this afternoon. Usually I'll have the urge to sketch something, or write drabble, or do something that requires a teaspoon of creativity, but I could barely bring myself to update this journal-thing. I finished my literature essay, and it looks promising. Mostly, I'm just hungry.

And bored. Finals week should have more to do in it, besides just writing and studying, which I don't actually have to do. I only have two more tests to take, and the one for which I have a study sheet isn't scheduled until next Thursday, and besides, I refuse to study for it without Emmet. It would be pointless, and I would forget all of the amazing benefits of studying and wander away to do something else.

I read The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time this morning. It was mildly interesting, but not particularly thought-provoking. I suppose I can lend it back to Molly. Maybe she will keep it?

Why am I so inane?