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Exams coming up in less than a week.
I'm soooooooooooooo dead.
So behind in my readings. Like literally months behind. Don't know what's happening in all my courses. Haven't compiled all my notes. Ack. Shoot me.
It's times like this I wish my brain could be magically transported into the body of when I was grade 2. Then I'd be a super genius and could take over the unruly world of elementary school! You want me to read this book? "See Jane run"? This stuff is so easy! Multiplication tables?!?! Stand back puny weaklings! I can do grade 12 math! Muhahahaha. Watch me with my infinite wisdom! Now gimme back my toy.
Ahhhh...yes, the world would have been my oyster. If only. Sigh. Alas it was not.
Ok enough fantasy. Back to work. Well, expect no updates for a few weeks while I try to run and catch my brain, which my profs will no doubt use in a crude game of hacky-sack.
Pray for mercy on my soul. :(
You'd think. All those years of high school. Handing in papers at the last possible minute would teach you a lesson about something. Punctuality. Preparation. The need to plan and to do your work ahead of time. Something.
Nope.
Then you think. Years of undergrad. All those thousands of dollars paid towards the opportunity of handing in all those papers at the last possible minute. I mean, if nothing else in life, undergrad--THAT should have taught you the lesson. You say never again--no more all nighters. You effectively begin to fantasize about getting your papers done on time. Actually, scratch that. Done a week in advance. Your fantasies turn delusional. Yes. A paper with scads of thorough research, advance prep work and pithy commentary. Proofread, approved and unanimously supported by every nation represented in the UN General Assembly. (It later becomes translated and distributed in twenty-six languages, goes on to fund research for a cure to cancer, and all the while, quelling civil strife in sub-Saharan Africa). "Eureka," you shriek in delight, "my paper will win the Nobel Prize in Economics!"
The small realization that your paper has absolutely nothing to do with the topic of economics does little to put a damper on your spirits.
Besides, you're certain you could spin in an economics theory somewhere into your opus. All that knowledge of demand curves, shifting supply, and marginal whatevers (that you picked up from looking at the Econ-At-A-Glance laminated notecards on sale at the bookstore while waiting in the lineup) is all coming back to you. You realize and briefly reflect upon the fact that happens to be more knowledge about economics than you retain about your own major.
So...if nothing else, you think...that experience in undergrad. Man. That changed you. When you get to grad school. When you get to the real world. Man. Watch out world! Stand back! Some serious ass kicking is going to be in order. Papers done on time. Appointments kept. Assignments done ahead of schedule. Things are gonna start looking up to you. That job. That promotion. That car. It's all coming.
Nope.
Trust me, kids. It doesn't happen like that. Habits die hard. You never really change. So really, now I've resorted to thinking that, hey if it's never gonna change, why fight it? Finished my paper a couple hours ago. Like I've been saying....it was another last minute rush job. Sigh.
Well it's all good. Now I've got that half dazed feeling you get from pulling an all nighter. Just cranking Jimmy Eat World's "Sweetness" as celebratory tunes.
I was spinning free. Whoa whoa...
With a little sweet.
And simple numbing me
Ok enough dancing. It's back to work for me. I hear the crack of the whip in the background. And it ain't my girlfriend.
*whimper*
Someone shoot me. My mind. It feels like it was just violated. By a stick and a sack full of bricks. I hate that class. Garh.
That is all.
Back to work.