Inertia
A nasty combination of worries, unhealthy habits and seasonal nasal allergy symptoms had pretty much exhausted me by last friday, so Spring Break has come as a lovely change of pace. Unfortunately, I've never quite learned how to handle days off. Much like my car, whose temperature controls consist of "hot" and "cold", I have two modes: "Work/Worry" and "Sleep All Day." I'm really not sure one mode is particularly more productive than the other, to be honest.
This week has given me an extended period to employ my "Sleep All Day" mode, and since my down time has been accompanied by a lot of alone time as well, I've morphed into an interesting creature.
I've completely lost track of time. I kinda drift through the day, which lasts anywhere from 6 to 18 hours, depending on whether or not I have a tennis match and how well I nap through any given afternoon. I have strange dreams (last night's most notable: in a department store, a clerk makes me mad, I speak to him, he slaps me. His manager does not care when I complain, I storm out angrily). When conscious, I find myself watching the same two channels on TV (ESPN or the History Channel) and not really paying attention or playing the same two songs on the piano (Fred Jones pt. 2 and The Luckiest) and not really trying very hard. I caught myself arguing with the ghost of Mr. Mayo yesterday, furiously declaring that World War II alone could not have ended the Depression, but rather it was the war combined with FDR's restructuring of our financial system that did the trick. And as the ghost of Mr. Mayo refuses to captitulate I grow angrier by the second. Don't get me wrong, it's better than school, but I'm really not even enjoying myself that much.
I think this is really getting to me; look at the syntax in that last sentence if you want proof. It's quite a funk I've fallen into. Two notable departures from my sloth occured last night and this morning and give me hope. First, I had the pleasure of entertaining a certain golden retriever (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent). The dog's enthusiasm is matched only by his ability to cover me in saliva; I was in love immediately. Second, I cleaned my room this morning. Sloth or no, Mom decreed that upon her return from Raleigh she would find my dwelling to her liking, and as visions of Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God flashed through my mind I reluctantly tidied my belongings (the living room is another story).
At least I'm trying. I read two chapters in Light in August today, cleaned my room and at this very moment I'm attempting to type. It's a start. Choir practice is in less than an hour and that never fails to lift my spirits, even if only for a little while. I just need some jolt to wake me up.
That's where the inertia comes in. I've been told that a body at rest will remain at rest until an outside force compels it to move. Now, my mother can attest that often even outside force is inadequate at getting this particular body to move, but I'm optimistic that somewhere out there lies a force powerful enough to knock me out of this orbit I've fallen into. Maybe one of you can help. I'm desperate, cause if this goes on much longer I'm gonna wake up in a coupla days covered in dog hair and with absolutely no idea what's going on.
This week has given me an extended period to employ my "Sleep All Day" mode, and since my down time has been accompanied by a lot of alone time as well, I've morphed into an interesting creature.
I've completely lost track of time. I kinda drift through the day, which lasts anywhere from 6 to 18 hours, depending on whether or not I have a tennis match and how well I nap through any given afternoon. I have strange dreams (last night's most notable: in a department store, a clerk makes me mad, I speak to him, he slaps me. His manager does not care when I complain, I storm out angrily). When conscious, I find myself watching the same two channels on TV (ESPN or the History Channel) and not really paying attention or playing the same two songs on the piano (Fred Jones pt. 2 and The Luckiest) and not really trying very hard. I caught myself arguing with the ghost of Mr. Mayo yesterday, furiously declaring that World War II alone could not have ended the Depression, but rather it was the war combined with FDR's restructuring of our financial system that did the trick. And as the ghost of Mr. Mayo refuses to captitulate I grow angrier by the second. Don't get me wrong, it's better than school, but I'm really not even enjoying myself that much.
I think this is really getting to me; look at the syntax in that last sentence if you want proof. It's quite a funk I've fallen into. Two notable departures from my sloth occured last night and this morning and give me hope. First, I had the pleasure of entertaining a certain golden retriever (who shall remain nameless to protect the innocent). The dog's enthusiasm is matched only by his ability to cover me in saliva; I was in love immediately. Second, I cleaned my room this morning. Sloth or no, Mom decreed that upon her return from Raleigh she would find my dwelling to her liking, and as visions of Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God flashed through my mind I reluctantly tidied my belongings (the living room is another story).
At least I'm trying. I read two chapters in Light in August today, cleaned my room and at this very moment I'm attempting to type. It's a start. Choir practice is in less than an hour and that never fails to lift my spirits, even if only for a little while. I just need some jolt to wake me up.
That's where the inertia comes in. I've been told that a body at rest will remain at rest until an outside force compels it to move. Now, my mother can attest that often even outside force is inadequate at getting this particular body to move, but I'm optimistic that somewhere out there lies a force powerful enough to knock me out of this orbit I've fallen into. Maybe one of you can help. I'm desperate, cause if this goes on much longer I'm gonna wake up in a coupla days covered in dog hair and with absolutely no idea what's going on.
posted by Nialator at 6:30 PM
2 Comments:
I have the perfect thing: you are more than welcome to come to Raleigh and help me through all of these papers that I have due at almost the same time.
I'm pretty proud of myself. Today I finished what is surely my biggest load of crap yet. In Context of Culture we had to make "This I believe" statements for National Public Radio. Being the natural rambler that I am, I was pretty excited about the "project" because it only had to be between 350 to 500 words. Woah, was I wrong! While the final draft itself only had to be 350 - 500 words, we were required by our professor do 20 "practice sketches" 5 "rough sketches" 5 "intermediate sketches" and 1 final copy, all the required length, PLUS another 2 pages describing our thought process and reactions to the project. Do you really think that I should tell her my true reaction to the project? Does she really want to know?
Now that one project is behind me, I feel much more confidant. I only have 3 more to go. Another project is a group thing for religion and I'm not responsible for typing it, just part of the research and fixing grammar (don't you love it when people find out your an English major?). Then comes my Spanish paper, but we present on Tuesday, so there isn't much left to do, and finally my English paper that I'm debating not doing b/c he drops the lowest grade. Things are looking much better! The end of the tunnel is near! Do you have any suggestions about whether or not I should write my English paper?
Will you look at how much I wrote?! I told you I was pretty good at chewing the fat!
i got the trick: have the ahos over on easter for schmooozzing on easter...yeah, that'll do it.
well, maybe not.
it was a nice evening though. keep typing.
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