When Epigraphs Attack

It's no secret that my motivation has been plummeting ever since the light at the end of the Master's tunnel became bright enough for me to see. And even though I've only got a few more days left to pull together (what I hope to God will be) the last seminar paper I'll ever write, I still sit here and procrastinate because I'm unwilling to get the job done.

This has led me to two of my favorite pastimes: baseball (which is back...huzzah!) and reading for pleasure. Both of these things have caused me a little bit of grief as of late.

Considering the latter first, I realized yesterday during a spate of Web surfing that Chuck Palahniuk's most recent book, Snuff, was finally released in paperback. I immediately decided (as I'm wont to do) that a trip to the Barnes and Noble was necessary. I went. I saw. I purchased. Not a problem, right?

Not until I brought it home and decided to start reading it right away. (I really hope my professor doesn't read this...) So I open it up, look over the title page, and flip it to the epigraph.

And what is that epigraph? An excerpt from Act I of John Webster's play The Duchess of Malfi.

The same play I'm writing that aforementioned seminar paper on.

Apparently, the universe was trying to tell me something. Something I didn't listen to, since I proceeded to read the whole book in one sitting. (LibraryThing review forthcoming, for those interested.) And for the record, I regret nothing.

As for my other obsession, let's just say I'm in the midst of an operation -- yes, for those of you curious, Operation 9 -- that should fix a glaring problem with my fandom. In the interest of not sabotaging the success of this mission, I'll not divulge too many details at this time. But suffice to say that details will be forthcoming (likely on Friday morning), along with a backstory and a complete explanation as to why I've been so surreptitious.

Until then, the consider the alert level at orange. Just don't ask me what that means.