It's not too hard for me to forget, this summer, that I'm up here for school. I feel like I'm living in some trial run of adulthood with a little less responsibility and a lot less money. I'm trying to keep busy, in my minimal downtime, by reading all the things that I've neglected in favor of my "education."
Plath, Dickens, Austen, Woolf (of course!), Milton--I'm going to slog through all of them, I hope. Too often, I feel like I've missed out on a classical education. In my imagination, I would have gone to the sort of school that taught Latin to six-year-olds, and would've read-and understood-Chaucer by the time I was fourteen. I mean, I guess the place I'm thinking of is from at least a hundred years ago and, most likely, only boys would've been allowed to attend.
So I'm reading. I'm not going to learn Latin, but I am going to try to make up for the educational gap that comes with being born decades too late.
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