Assorted Thoughts

Bev, our English prof is a complete saddist. And nymphomaniac. But right now mostly just a saddist. Needless to say, the essay is going in a less than desireable direction. Read: I can't remember my topic. Or understand the short story I'm supposed to be analysing. Or am I even supposed to be analysing it? Was that what The Saddist wanted? I know not.
Anyway, this essay just won't seem to write itself, no matter how much prompting I give it. Mostly I am just making myself more confused. And I am wasting time. Which is what my essay is about in the first place. Time, I mean. I think. And how everything happens infinitely at the same time, or some other such rubbish. Crappity crap crap. Must get back to work.