|
|
So I stayed up all of Thursday night/Friday morning procrastinating on my Catullus translation paper, and eventually got around to hammering out my thousand words (while skipping all my classes), and emailed the paper to my professor, and then spent a good portion of the evening making food with Dav. As a result, our refrigerator now contains two avocados' worth of homemade guacamole, a big bowl of black-bean-and-corn salad with cilantro and yellow peppers and lime juice, and a couple pounds of chicken salad with celery and pecans and hardboiled egg. Seeing as how I haven't slept in about 40 hours, I think I should probably go to bed now.
posted on Saturday, September 29, 2007
|
|
|
Class today brought terror and euphoria in equal measure. Terror because after spending all night (half-)finishing a lab report, biking to Phillips at daybreak to beat the TA to the submission box, and spending about three hours of quality time with my dear yet estranged friend Sleep, I arrived ten minutes late to Discrete to find the first midterm well underway.
Oh shit was of course my first thought, despair at seeing confirmed what had seemed like paranoia, quickly supplanted by desperate, do-or-die determination as I stole into the room, followed by cantankerous defiance upon seeing the professor's incredulity that I was even going to attempt the test. Not that his skepticism was unjustified -- I hadn't even been to class in a week, and since the midterm dates weren't on any of the course materials, it was only instinct that compelled me to make an appearance, academic guilt long since having lost its worth as a motivating factor.
Instinct isn't something I'm comfortable relying on. Nor improvisation. They served me well today, though (insofar as they apply to mathematical proofs), perversely energized by the general cranky-mofoness of insomina. And so I was pleasantly surprised to find myself handing in the completed test with a whole five seconds to spare. I probably didn't do very well, but I put in a damn good effort, considering. In a masochistic way, I'm hoping to pass but only barely, because I need a sharp shock to break the habit of wingin' it, which has become more or less the only way I get any academic work done. Why can't I be organized and studious like Dav? It'd be boring, but I could be doing so much more. I've got smarts, health, luck, everything but motivation.
It began raining as I went to Latin, kept raining all through class, rained still as I left Murphey, and finally thinned to a drizzle as I got back to Odum. I'm relieved that I still love Latin, although if we were reading anybody but Catullus, I might not be as sure. But enough with the contrafactuals -- getting rained on is a great way to end a week.
posted on Friday, September 14, 2007
|
|
|
Summer ended with a bang that flung us like shrapnel, hurtling every which way, back to our primary lives.
I don't remember planning retro-themed decor. I was just drawn to old photos and paintings, one after another, and only recognized the pattern as I hung them up.
By "us" I don't mean to imply some group woven from the many threads of individual friendships. I mean a group whose non-me members generally don't know or care about each other. From my perspective, all threads point to me. Not healthy, I know.
I don't have a clue whether I want to study abroad or not. They all say it's fun, though, and they're pretty convincing. I dug out the ol' CS degree worksheet last night and it looks like I could still graduate on time even if I squandered a semester in Europe or Japan, which is annoying because it means the decision ain't gonna get made for me, at least not until an application deadline.
Having an apartment is liberating. It's great to know that I can, on sheer impulse, make a large pot of oatmeal in the middle of the night, and eat it all. I know that I can do that because I did it a few hours ago. Even washing all the dishes by hand is satisfying, because they're our dishes.
posted on Wednesday, September 05, 2007
|
|
|
|
|
