My journalism professor indirectly called me out in class today, for being grotesquely behind in my blogs. I feel like I am committing an abhorrent sin by actually blogging about this, but perhaps through my public confession I shall be baptized in vocabulary and syntax, and shall be born again through grammatical grace and offered a seat at the table of tagmemics.
In my defense, it's not my fault. I blame it on all of my other professors who load me up with assignments and expect me to prioritize their classes. I blame it on the 18 credits I am taking with my new double major, and I blame my decision for the double major so late in the game (as a junior) on my inherent indecisiveness, passed down genetically from both of my parents. I also blame it on my social life and the amount of coffee I feel I need to drink everyday, and on the patriarchal society in which I live. I blame it on Marilyn Manson. I blame it on everything else so that I don't have to own up to the fact that I can be better than I am now.
And I hope my displacement of blame has not thrown me out of favor with the gods of writing...I'm still looking forward to that baptize and new birth.
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