All the guys have the same girl's haircut

I have made a very sad discovery about myself. Yes, yesterday was a dark, dark day in the life of one Brooke Sloane Cartolano.

I was reading Twelfth Night, and doing an assignment for it as well. The assignment was to find a small section of blank verse in which Shakespeare deviated from the normal iambic pentameter. Sounds easy enough, yes? Well, NO. Then I had to say WHY he deviated, WHAT the deviation was, and WHAT it meant. And I froze. I sat there for literally hours trying to figure it out. Ultimately, in the interest of time and due dates, I just copied someone else. But I feel really bad about it, I swear! I am not the type to just do the work so I can pass. I have to learn something. Or else I will go NUTS. I am the same way with math. That's why I hated precalculus. They told me a formula existed, but would not explain why. Only that it was always correct.

Even though the assignment is done, I'm still going to go back and try and figure it out for myself. Because that's how I am.

The point of this was, this whole thing shattered my delusions of being this enlightened soul. If I can't even interpret Shakespeare, clearly I am an unfit individual. I should be slaughtered and served up next to a side of wild rice and carrots.

I wish I could have my pretensions back =[