I am currently sitting in front of a computer at the library at The University of Oslo. I am supposed to write an essay about Edgar Degas' Viscount Lepic and his Daughters crossing la Place de Concorde.
I guess it's kinda interesting, but I just can't get myself to write today. I feel like I have everything inside my head, it just refuses to come out through my fingertips and touch the keyboard in the right places to form an essay on the screen.
Franz Johan, my parents' black cat is finally home again after a week and a half of disapperance. We thought we'd lost him, and mum was sad because he's her little baby now that me and my sister has moved away from home. And I was sad, because I love him sleeping in my bed at night when I'm there. And other than that, he's got a great personality too.
Anyway.. I guess I should continue writing. Or at least try. I've got a week and a half left to do it, and it's only four pages, so I should make it. It's just... you know...
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