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Two Weeks
02 December 2003 @ 10:32 a.m.
Dark glasses hide my puffy red eyes. If only I could wear them for the rest of the day. If only the day had gone according to plan. And yet it is only ten in the morning.
Two weeks left in this, my final fall semester. Two weeks to finalize everything for the five courses that attempt to run my life. Two weeks I must survive.
There is now a big, colorful list of things to finish on the once bare wall next to the desk. Papers are arranged by course screaming at me with everything that must be finished. A few items have been crossed off since their creation; so many more to follow. This wall is now my focus. These past 24 hours have abided by it and it only. But the outside world doesn�t want me to follow it. Instead, the outside world wants to hold me back when I finally have the motivation and drive to move forward.
Most recent example: Got up early this morning, came home as I fell asleep at Chewba�s writing a paper, finished paper, printed it, left for campus on time, pull into commuter lot #1 and it is full, drive down to commuter lot #2 and it is full. Begin frustration now. Drive through all metered parking finding no spots. Back to commuter lot #2, still full. By now it is about ten minutes into the class. Frustration mounts more as parking guy drives through commuter lot #2 placing many tickets on cars without passes SINCE THE FUCKING GATES WERE UP SO ANYONE COULD PARK THERE. By now it�s almost twenty minutes into the class as I drive around armed with the paper I stayed up all night to write realizing that I have no place to park my vehicle so I may attend the fucking course.
Want another one? Well, last night I came home to finish writing this paper. Just a typical night with me, my caffeine, trance music, and computer. Except the computer wouldn�t connect to the internet which was where about half of my sources were located. Then the printer wasn�t communicating with the computer for some stupid reason and it was out of ink. That�s right, a whole lot of nothing from the technology end of paper writing. So I went to Chewba�s place to write it. I felt like I was intruding on his time and/or ignoring him as I sat silently pecking away at his keyboard.
I hate school and everything associated with it. I should not have to push myself so hard to accomplish stupid menial tasks. I shouldn�t have to just because when I fail, I crash. Hence the puffy eyes.
Two weeks left and the wall is still full of tasks. Sleep will not be plentiful and if I don�t make a bit of time, neither will food. In fact, I�m planning on staying up tonight and just working straight through. I pray the back will keep things together so that I may do this. . .
currently reading: Wish you well � David Baldacci
currently listening: -
