This whole writing thing may be getting the better of me. I haven’t really slept in a few days (just got up after three hours of quite troubled sleep), I have only eaten crap (bars, coffee, LOTS of pizza by the slice from around the corner and that’s pretty much it–I can really feel my body begin to shut down) and I am still desperately trying to catch up with my insane workload. I am also beginning to feel that I am going crazy, which is a phenomenon that, in respect to writing, does not truly fill me with large amounts of jouissance, since being in the process of completing a work similar to that of famous Judge Schreber is not what I initially intended to do (see Memoirs of my Nervous Illness and Freud’s and Deleuze’s treatment thereof). I have also felt guilty for not posting but seeing as I am still lacking the time to put any thought into a post I will just provide you with an example of the effect of my beginning insanity on my writing.
Here the title of a subchapter and its accompanying footnote:
2. The End (of the Center) is Near or, not a parvenu, not yet pariah
 To the tune of Britney Spears’ “I’m Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman.”