I am supposed to be writing a paper. It is on PTSD in children exposed to violence through war, domestic abuse or street violence. Sad topic, but interesting, no?
I do not have a word down. Not a word. Because writing papers is the bane of my existence. Seriously. I hate doing it more than I hate anything else at all.
It's not even the actual writing of the papers that bothers me so much. It's the idea of writing them, the possibility that I will make an argument that makes no sense, or that I do not have enough information to actually write a paper. I am constantly second-guessing myself and procrastinating and turning them in late whenever possible. It physically hurts, and I hate it.
I have to hand this paper in tomorrow, and I have to do it before Manoli gets here at 2. Ideally, I will finish the damn thing tonight.
In order to do that, though, I have to start. And starting is the most painful part of all.