Of Blacker Ink and Boredom

It is always when I must write about something that I want to be reading and writing about something else. During my breaks (which are notoriously many), ideas go to play with each other in my impatient mind. If I had control over what I was studying at this moment… What would I choose? Stupidly I picture titles and topics that are basic but proclaimed on my mental playground with great trumpeting and awe. Because… let’s face it… I’m awesome.

The sad truth is that I do choose what I am writing about. Teachers are so good to give me enough wiggle room that I can pick an intriguing topic. The sad part is that I know I will never be free of this impatience. This grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side (read: ink-is-blacker-on-the-other-essay-topic) thinking. Ug.

But there is another level of worry. As I ponder, I am struck by the already-been-doneness of my interests.

Really, Alia?! Really? You want to write about the rhetoric of feminism bashing? The rhetoric of hip hop? The rhetoric of dating? The rhetoric of identity? Come on. What could you bring to the table?

I hear professors I know and trust talk about some pretty bad, pretty uninspiring, pretty cookie cutter papers that they’ve had to read and edit. God forbid, I cause someone that kind of boredom! And I feel it is inevitable.

My paper for ECA hasn’t really been brushed up. It was so hard to write it in the first place. SO very emotional. The more I look at it, though, the more I am struck dumbfounded by its simplicity. So what? Who the fuck cares? gah.

Fret not, my loyal, supportive and always reading professors/friends! I am scared but when are we not? It can be channeled. And I recognize that more reading on any topic will unfold more refined and specific questions. However I post these words now so that I can invite you to comment from your personal experiences. I ask you how you deal?