![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp2QAfs6f8cC6Js5YmVvAtNwSURVPXf7NRi7aVE2xB5IuMwKRg3cyJ5nxSK5nNrzxPil2JAJrk3GPLBClxpPg0gBqh89rJumDvWeZFwmBWbYkJKmKZJOWMM0hMiM4q3oImvbiZaQ/s320/zeitgeist.jpg)
Soon I will begin my summer classes. I'm taking two on creative writing, a beginning and intermediate level. Simultaneously.
Hopefully I won't cop out and submit the same stories to both classes. I probably won't since I don't think these classes count toward either of the degrees I claim to be pursuing. Ideally, I'll learn something and that will be its own reward.
My hunt for an education can be imagined as me peeking around a corner at a cardboard box that I've propped up with a stick to which I've tied a piece of string whose end I clutch in a grubby hand. The bait is a hearty portion of ignorance that I hope will lure some knowledge into my trap. Assuming that I recognize the prey at the proper moment, I will yank the string to release the stick and bring down the box.
I'm not sure what do after that. Probably have to get something to feed it.