How terrible are my work habits! This blog will be the end of me if I continue to write in it. I have a Macbeth essay I should be currently working on. The final draft is due- I could change around a couple sentences in my second draft and modify the thesis, sliding by with an A. But I can't- I would be able to turn in last-minute, shoddy rubbish in any other class (believe me, I do, and have yet to feel one pang of remorse), but never in English. It's not the subject; it's by far my best and I read and write avidly and passionately, but passion has never been a strong enough impetus to battle my amazing apathy. My teacher, Suzan Lake, installs fear. That's why I work.

Isn't that sad?

Mrs. Lake is by far one of the most fascinating people I've ever encountered. She's subtle, soft spoken, and has this amazing power over anybody she talks to. She won't hesitate to rip a student to pieces in front of the entire class because he or she didn't put any thought into a paper, but is kind and willing to teach if you are open, submissive, and ready to learn. She never interrupts anyone that interrupts her in class, but waits quietly to explain to him why he/she is so impatient, where his/her impatience stems from, and what depths of meaningless existence it will drive him/her to if he chooses not to abandon it.

Nobody has ever insulted Lake. She is one of the most learned people that has ever served as a mentor in my life; she speaks 4 languages, and knows the work of every author and poet ever mentioned in class. She studied the pronunciation of ancient Gaelic so that she might be able to read poems in the language to her students. And yet she is humble, never flaunting this immense wealth of knowledge; her wisdom is simply so pure and abundant that it seeps from her eyes and from her pores and from her very being, ever present and silent. She is willing to share this with any that yearn to partake of the sweet concept that is experience, but is ever ready to punish those that forsake what she has given them and try to use ignorance as justification for indolence. Before her I feel as if I am standing before Howard Roark (for those of you familiar with The fountainhead)

She is the reason that I will get only 4 hours of sleep tonight because of a paper that could technically be completed in 10 minutes. She is the only person in the world that I've ever thought of as a true objectivist. Her work isn't in architecture or in art, but in the shaping of human minds.

Quite an extraordinary woman.