As was the case on Friday and Saturday, I decided to read a bit of Inner Workings in lieu of scholarly articles about Disgrace. Whereas I was tired of reading criticism late last week and opted to give my mind a bit of a break, I was just plain tired today. Wiped out, in fact. Knowing that I would probably not gain much from a longer critical reading given how much difficulty I had been having keeping my eyes open all day, I figured reading something less demanding than your average academic journal article would be a good idea. I mean, I wanted to get something done, but I really couldn't expect a whole lot from myself. Still, progress is progress and my little bit of reading in Coetzee's collection did yield a few bon mots that may find their way into my dissertation. So I am not complaining.
But I am yawning.
For tomorrow: Read another essay.