Spring

Today the grey-brown campus is redeemed by daffodils and sun and gleaming water. I'm in the Courtyard, which at three-thirty is already full of amusingly dressed St Patrick's Day drinkers, having very milky coffee and trying to put thousands of words of essay notes into order. This is turning out to be a strange one; I've never before felt with an essay that I could just keep writing forever. (Writing notes, though, which is very different from accessible and assessable prose.) I hope this is some sort of breakthrough and that it's going to be this way with the MA dissertation as well; it's a little disquieting, but fun.