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It felt so good to sleep today. My bedsheets were warm and clean (as I just washed them yesterday), and the air was thick and heavy and oh-so-conductive to sleeping.
Now I have to decide what I want to do today. If I had it my way, I would get dressed (or maybe even not, maybe just put my contacts in, because my eyes sort of itch until I do, and if I don't put them in without in a certain window of time, I never can get them in, and then I'm stuck wearing glasses all day), and then just write my story all day, because I had some great ideas last night. I have some great ideas in the morning, between dreaming and the end of sleep (sleepthought?), where I can channel my characters more perfectly and concentrate on just that. Though, then again, every idea just seems perfect, and I tend to just go off on dream-tangents too easily (and they still seem good).
However, I do have Improv at 2:00, which eats up a large chunk out of the middle of my day. I'll get back from that at 4:00, and then I won't do much but think about dinner until we go at 6:00. After dinner, I won't want to do anything else-- maybe just little things. I'll still feel like it's the weekend. I have a Hiragana final ("mastery test") that I have to study for, but that shouldn't be too hard to work on: I know hiragana, so I'll just do another one of those seven-minute runs, and make sure I get every little flick that I don't usually do (and, well, don't really need to do . . . I've seen people's handwriting in Japan, lol . . . ) right, and the stroke order (I'm pretty good at that at this point, but on the few that I don't, sometimes I even do it right, but I just forgot what I wrote immediately after I wrote it) right, as well.
So. From now until 2:00, I will not being writing my story, as I would like, but studying for my Problems in Philosophy midterm and reading the rest of my Hegel readings for Introduction to Political Theory II. Maybe, if I'm really good, I'll review the memorized conversations for Japanese on Monday, since we're starting a new chapter, and that's always the hardest (the first of the four-or-so new conversations is just memorizing sounds; they introduce so many new words and grammar patterns themselves that it's not speaking Japanese, it's memorizing a long list of syllables and nobody understands-- but by the time you get to the fourth conversation, you know exactly what they're talking about save one or two easily uncovered vocabulary words). If I'm done with that, I should go to the library and get more books for my research paper (but I won't-- not until Monday, when I'm there, anyway). A college student's work is never done.
You see, this is why I don't want to do anything this summer. I don't want a job, I don't want an internship; I want to write my freaking book. I never end up doing that, though, every time I say I will, so I might as well just give it up. Maybe I'll just get some boring part-time job at Walmart or something and then I can come home after thinking about my books as I sort through the yarn supplies and art materials or the electronics or the books or whatever the hell they place me in and write it with renewed freshness, actually missing it. I really wanted to take a class at a local college, too, to try to fill in my less-than-desired cluster requirements (Oh, QA . . . ), but, apparently, you can't do that, or something. Damn them all. I wanted to do my math homework when I had nothing to do but math homework, and not worry about anything else at the same time. Math makes me want to kill myself sometimes, and it certainly sucks out my soul and makes me want to steal my drive away from other subjects solely to kill it. Hell, it's been two years since I've had any formal math. I've forgotten how to do it. I swear to God. I had my second trimester of PreCalculus in the third semester of Junior year, and I vowed to it it would never show its ugly ass to me again. Calculus is out. Sadly, Statistics don't sound much better. I think there's some class specifically designed for me, but Anu said it's really hard. Damn them. Give us non-math people a break. Just because the rest of the school is geniuses (or at least forced to proficient, considering their premed or engineering or what-have-you math-related majors) in math . . .
I think Spring Break I may actually be working on my research paper a lot.
Edit (12:00 pm): Never, in the history of the world (or at least maybe since "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich," by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn) has there been so much written about so little.
Stream of consciousness, much?
Robert is completely right. I do think too much . . . but what am I supposed to do with all this spare time? Fill it up with boring thoughts pertaining to work and not the real world? That seems worse. Employ a screen-saver?
Edit (12:03): I also sort of wish Carol would wake up earlier (though, today, really, she has an excuse, seeing as how she was up until the wee hours of the morning doing Relay for Life-- but without Relay for Life, she's still stayed up that late/slept this late, so I'm not really sure how much of an excuse that is, actually . . . ). Not as early as, say, Lisa or Patricia, mind you (I am going to feel so lazy next year, when Lisa wakes up at 8:00 and skips off down to the gym, and returns at 10:00 to shower and get an early start on her physics, lol . . . and Patricia's been getting up at 7:00 am or earlier to go run-- or sometimes bike-- for miles), but it's so hard to feel motivated to do anything (or even to get up and move around and be loud) when she's flopped over there in her bed, with the blinds drawn shut. I like to have the windows open and the room full of light, so that I can embrace the day (and realize that it's time to be getting up and getting to work). Maybe I'm just a parrot, or something . . .
Now I have to decide what I want to do today. If I had it my way, I would get dressed (or maybe even not, maybe just put my contacts in, because my eyes sort of itch until I do, and if I don't put them in without in a certain window of time, I never can get them in, and then I'm stuck wearing glasses all day), and then just write my story all day, because I had some great ideas last night. I have some great ideas in the morning, between dreaming and the end of sleep (sleepthought?), where I can channel my characters more perfectly and concentrate on just that. Though, then again, every idea just seems perfect, and I tend to just go off on dream-tangents too easily (and they still seem good).
However, I do have Improv at 2:00, which eats up a large chunk out of the middle of my day. I'll get back from that at 4:00, and then I won't do much but think about dinner until we go at 6:00. After dinner, I won't want to do anything else-- maybe just little things. I'll still feel like it's the weekend. I have a Hiragana final ("mastery test") that I have to study for, but that shouldn't be too hard to work on: I know hiragana, so I'll just do another one of those seven-minute runs, and make sure I get every little flick that I don't usually do (and, well, don't really need to do . . . I've seen people's handwriting in Japan, lol . . . ) right, and the stroke order (I'm pretty good at that at this point, but on the few that I don't, sometimes I even do it right, but I just forgot what I wrote immediately after I wrote it) right, as well.
So. From now until 2:00, I will not being writing my story, as I would like, but studying for my Problems in Philosophy midterm and reading the rest of my Hegel readings for Introduction to Political Theory II. Maybe, if I'm really good, I'll review the memorized conversations for Japanese on Monday, since we're starting a new chapter, and that's always the hardest (the first of the four-or-so new conversations is just memorizing sounds; they introduce so many new words and grammar patterns themselves that it's not speaking Japanese, it's memorizing a long list of syllables and nobody understands-- but by the time you get to the fourth conversation, you know exactly what they're talking about save one or two easily uncovered vocabulary words). If I'm done with that, I should go to the library and get more books for my research paper (but I won't-- not until Monday, when I'm there, anyway). A college student's work is never done.
You see, this is why I don't want to do anything this summer. I don't want a job, I don't want an internship; I want to write my freaking book. I never end up doing that, though, every time I say I will, so I might as well just give it up. Maybe I'll just get some boring part-time job at Walmart or something and then I can come home after thinking about my books as I sort through the yarn supplies and art materials or the electronics or the books or whatever the hell they place me in and write it with renewed freshness, actually missing it. I really wanted to take a class at a local college, too, to try to fill in my less-than-desired cluster requirements (Oh, QA . . . ), but, apparently, you can't do that, or something. Damn them all. I wanted to do my math homework when I had nothing to do but math homework, and not worry about anything else at the same time. Math makes me want to kill myself sometimes, and it certainly sucks out my soul and makes me want to steal my drive away from other subjects solely to kill it. Hell, it's been two years since I've had any formal math. I've forgotten how to do it. I swear to God. I had my second trimester of PreCalculus in the third semester of Junior year, and I vowed to it it would never show its ugly ass to me again. Calculus is out. Sadly, Statistics don't sound much better. I think there's some class specifically designed for me, but Anu said it's really hard. Damn them. Give us non-math people a break. Just because the rest of the school is geniuses (or at least forced to proficient, considering their premed or engineering or what-have-you math-related majors) in math . . .
I think Spring Break I may actually be working on my research paper a lot.
Edit (12:00 pm): Never, in the history of the world (or at least maybe since "One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich," by Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn) has there been so much written about so little.
Stream of consciousness, much?
Robert is completely right. I do think too much . . . but what am I supposed to do with all this spare time? Fill it up with boring thoughts pertaining to work and not the real world? That seems worse. Employ a screen-saver?
Edit (12:03): I also sort of wish Carol would wake up earlier (though, today, really, she has an excuse, seeing as how she was up until the wee hours of the morning doing Relay for Life-- but without Relay for Life, she's still stayed up that late/slept this late, so I'm not really sure how much of an excuse that is, actually . . . ). Not as early as, say, Lisa or Patricia, mind you (I am going to feel so lazy next year, when Lisa wakes up at 8:00 and skips off down to the gym, and returns at 10:00 to shower and get an early start on her physics, lol . . . and Patricia's been getting up at 7:00 am or earlier to go run-- or sometimes bike-- for miles), but it's so hard to feel motivated to do anything (or even to get up and move around and be loud) when she's flopped over there in her bed, with the blinds drawn shut. I like to have the windows open and the room full of light, so that I can embrace the day (and realize that it's time to be getting up and getting to work). Maybe I'm just a parrot, or something . . .
