Writing about George’s Pyrrhic victory in Edward Albee’s Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf. Less a term paper, and more a 600-word run-on sentence. Still, my shit is illy. Can’t help but think of the losses I sustain in terms of sleep/sanity/general health when I pull off these 13th hour academic coups. I’m the King Pyrrhus of this paper-writing set.
