If you don’t like your classes, the work seems like a chore, a bore, a what the heck am I doing this for? You feel overworked, maybe miserable. You might cry about it. You might vent to your wall.
I got lucky this semester. I love my classes. I want to marry my classes. I do. I do. I do. OK, not really. But for classes, they are pretty compatible. It’s like I matched dot commed those suckers. For real.
Which is why I’m an inconsistent over-achiever. Sometimes lazy. Often tired. I draw doodles when I should be creating art. Lucky for me, the accomplishments listed below have been the norm of the first couple months of this, the second to last semester of my graduate program. Senior status, I’m this close to out of here.
Accomplishments of the weekend, and week thus far:
Finished my second column for Column Writing
Volunteered at the fort
Bought an exuberant amount of groceries
Attempted finding the meaning of life
Pondered what it would be like to be famous
Sent a Web submission to McSweeney’s
Found solace in television
Watched Beauty and the Beast on my computer
Sent e-mails to prospective interview subjects
Researched superheroines (not to be confused with an extreme version of the drug)
Wrote this post
For tonight: The beginnings of a restaurant review. Ethiopian food awaits.
For tomorrow: Samba lessons.
I’m on a roll.
An on-the-spot poem about procrastination:
I’ll do it later.