Spontaneous Combustion

14 Credit hours might be too much . . . or maybe it's that I'm not committed to writing right now. It's all I want to do, I am still browsing all the empty journals who beg and thirst and hunger for words to be dribbled and glazed, poured, spattered, and splashed onto their page and I long to do it.

But I don't want to write a position paper, I don't want to write academic essays, I don't even want to write the journals for my Women's Studies course even though they are delicious and delightful and have the potential to be the kind of writing I love to do.

I am ilinspired.I am exhausted and overwhelmed and I know I am capable of working full time and going to school full time . . . I keep wondering if I've bitten off more than I can chew . . . but that doesn't seem real because I'm not putting in the time!

How can I have taken on too much if I don't even do what I can?

I can't even tell what's real and what isn't anymore.