Ack.

So, I'm gonna be a little busy for the next week or so. I've got a 40 min. presentation to prepare for this Saturday ('suffering, catharsis and transfomation'), ten pages due the following monday (new fiction for workshop), and a whole buttload of reading (how much is a buttload, you ask? A lot). And yes, I'm still working 40 hrs a week. At least.

But while I'm here: What's up with my near-pathological need to reach out to unpleasant people? What compells me to befriend the intolerable? Why do I go out of my way to do them favours, when I know full well that they'd never do the same for me, and are probably patting themselves on the back for pulling one over on ol' gullible? Is it the guilt I feel for dislking them? Is it a recognition of the unpleasantness within me? Misdirected charity? A need to be liked, no matter the source? A 'holier than thou' impulse to live by example? Or am I just a chum......p?