Another day, another few hours spent staring at a computer screen. I'm just gearing up to set myself to get ready to write some papers, so many of which (three!) are due by next week. They're short papers, with little research required, so it's less a matter of pushing myself mentally to understand the material and more a matter of pushing myself physically to sit down and just type out the stupid things.

Oh, by the way, I've decided that I'm going to live in Mongolia in my old age, or as soon as I can live without having to work in a fixed place. I'm not going to live nomadically on the steepes, drinking fermented yak mare milk and herding cattle through sparse, rugged landscapes. What kind of masochist would I have to be to do that? No, I'm going to drink my fermented yak mare milk in the bleak and souless cities, where I'm convinced I'll finally be able to settle down and devote myself to learning how to really write.