It's 20 pass 1 in the morning. I am sitting at the table in the computer room rather than in my cozy room, working on the essays, in the last minutes.

This is the second time I write in English yet it seems that ever time I do this, it's always about complaining. (In order to keep it a secret from my dear faithful reader-- my mom)

Not completely, but, close. Can't help it. I was really pissed off by my notebook. It kept shutting off automatically for hours while I was editing the essays. Gosh I hate IBM.

Four weeks of intensive work made the day before submitting much more relaxing (an perhaps a bit too relaxing) than last time. And I do think they are not trash for all the efforts I put in made me have a tiny little faith in them.

As I said in the previous post, I am on my way to a professional historian. I know perfectly well this means a lot more challenging works and a lifetime permitment. But I am not gona give it up.