I just discovered a pile of old writing, some of which I did during an internship and some of which is from a college creative writing class. (And a good lot of the latter is thinly veiled college student angst, so you can imagine what that looks like.)
I'm totally mortified, and I can't believe I actually submitted this stuff to be graded. (And, come to think of it, the professor was probably very generous. He's a poet I have a lot of respect for, and one he might have been the only professor whose office hours I attended.)
On the bright side, I also discovered the Windows installation disk I've been searching for for the past couple of months, so there's your silver lining.
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