Ludovico Magno

It is 12:11 AM and I am comfortably sunken into an extremely cushy chair in the library. The air is so warm here and it makes me sleepy, I think, but I love the quiet atmosphere. The only sounds that arise are ones I find oddly calming: the light clatter of keyboards, the humming of the wooden ceiling fans and the occasional murmur of the printer. The girl in the chair directly across from me has fallen asleep, her body bent at the waist and her feet splayed on the ottoman we currently share; she breathes so lightly and I wish I could achieve that same level of tranquility. Instead, I frantically read book upon book about propaganda during the reign of Louis XIV, scrambling notes onto more leafs of notebook paper than any one person should have to use and subsequently attempting to tackle the daunting task of condensing days' worths of notes onto a few minuscule index cards.

My midterm "job interview" with my history professor (read: "Jean-Baptiste Colbert, royal advisor to Louis") is tomorrow at noon and I am terrified and no matter how many more hours I devote to studying, I already know I will still wake up tomorrow morning thinking that even breaking out in hives would be better than showing up at his office.

I am tired and I want to go to sleep.