Thursday afternoon I fly out of Seattle to Chicago. Let me tell you, that day cannot come soon enough.
My excitement's a little dampened, unfortunately, by how overwhelmed I'm feeling about the work I have to do between now & then. I would just buckle down & DO it (I mean, I am, I'm going do as soon as I'm done with this), but a) this history paper is one of those assignments that is about as attractive as the wrong end of a magnet, & b) I am ridiculously tired. I think I'm just chronically sleep-deprived; I gave up at 1am yesterday & went to bed even though I should have done more on my homework.
Oh, that refrain: I should have done more! I wail, with absolutely no one to blame but myself.
Also, I think I can legitimately distract myself by working on poems, which, although they are technically homework and so strictly fall into the realm of "allowed things to do with my time," are far less important (given that it's revision with no specified due date) than, say, my history paper or my history reading and critical journals, or that last section of the Ghosts analysis for Rosa.
Also I need to eat better. And work out, so that I have more energy. Holy bejeezus, I am not taking care of myself at all. This is lame.
( my to do list, wtf )
Y'know, I think I can manage it. Actually, I'm not sure about that; I'm only saying it because I have to believe it. If only I weren't so damn tired all the time.
My excitement's a little dampened, unfortunately, by how overwhelmed I'm feeling about the work I have to do between now & then. I would just buckle down & DO it (I mean, I am, I'm going do as soon as I'm done with this), but a) this history paper is one of those assignments that is about as attractive as the wrong end of a magnet, & b) I am ridiculously tired. I think I'm just chronically sleep-deprived; I gave up at 1am yesterday & went to bed even though I should have done more on my homework.
Oh, that refrain: I should have done more! I wail, with absolutely no one to blame but myself.
Also, I think I can legitimately distract myself by working on poems, which, although they are technically homework and so strictly fall into the realm of "allowed things to do with my time," are far less important (given that it's revision with no specified due date) than, say, my history paper or my history reading and critical journals, or that last section of the Ghosts analysis for Rosa.
Also I need to eat better. And work out, so that I have more energy. Holy bejeezus, I am not taking care of myself at all. This is lame.
( my to do list, wtf )
Y'know, I think I can manage it. Actually, I'm not sure about that; I'm only saying it because I have to believe it. If only I weren't so damn tired all the time.