This week was mostly a lesson in the dangers of procrastination. I had an essay due for English Proseminar, a paper due for Philosophy and Film, and a story due for Intro to Creative Writing. I knew about all these things by Monday or Tuesday, and I decided I should probably do some work on them, but I didn't. By Thursday I still hadn't started any of them.
By Thursday afternoon, it was pretty clear that I needed to get started if I wanted to have any chance of finishing what I had to do. I started off with the paper for English Proseminar, which was only supposed to be about two pages and which I finished pretty quickly. Next was the paper for Philosophy and Film, and that's where things started to get difficult. I thought I had a pretty good idea of what I was doing, but it quickly proved difficult for me to meet the wordcount I was supposed to, and I found out I'd written maybe the first half of it wrong. So that took me several hours to do.
When I finally finished that paper, I moved on to the short story. I'd only figured out what the story was going to be about earlier that day, and I was mostly kind of making it up as I went along. Since it was the middle of the night by that point, I decided to go to bed and wake up early the next morning to finish it. So I was going on about five hours of sleep on Friday, but I only had one class so that worked out okay.
My train was permanently parked at procrastination station last week. I could not get anything done. I just could not get myself motivated. I locked myself in the library one night and all I did was play tetris on my computer until three in the morning. Finally, on Thursday night I drank enough coffee to drug an elephant and went to town. I finished everything!
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