I will never do homework again after I finish this paper. For my own personal life needs - learning monologues, reading plays, etc., sure. But never again as a student (watch, this virtually guarantees that I'll end up in grad school someday).
I'm in the middle of page 11 on what needs to be a 12 page paper, and I'm out of ideas. I can't help but wonder if this is my subconscious' way of telling me I don't quite know how not to be a student, that if I don't finish this paper then I won't yet be done and won't have to learn how to understand that.
It really doesn't help that I'm writing about what theatre is and why it's important, and despite having been through three years where theatre is basically all I've learned and thought about, I'm very much not sure that I know. More on this when I have time to write about how weird it is to know I'll never go back to Strasberg (at least not in the same way I've come to know it).
But seriously. How have I only just now hit the wall when I'm so close to finished? It seems too coincidental. Universe, what's the deal?