Pouty morning.
This has not been a good morning for me. I think the higher doses of antidepressants are counteracting my habitual insomnia, which is exciting in a way, but unfortunately it means that I've developed a nasty habit of becoming incredibly sleepy before I'm done with my work. What's worse is that the happy!drugged part of my mind looks at the situation sensibly and says, "okay, sleepiness equals poor quality work, so stop fighting it and just go to bed" and puts me to sleep. But I'm still not a morning person and it takes me half of forever to wake up enough to move in the morning if there isn't the risk of being fired or the promise of a paycheck hanging over my head. So when I finally dragged my sorry butt out from under the nice warm quilt this morning, I trudged downstairs just long enough to grab breakfast. And unfortunately, since it's Red-Sox-Approaching-World-Series!! season, most of the food in the house these days is beer and pizza and brownies. I'm not above tolerating baseball if it means my housemates provide me with food. This morning, I grabbed a slice of pizza and a brownie from last night's leftovers and scurried back up the stairs to glare balefully at the pdfs of my readings. And then I realized what I had just eaten, again. D'oh!
You know, it's weird, the quirks you notice about yourself when you stop feeling sorry for yourself, take a breath, and just look around. When I procrastinate, I tend to reach for either the Sharpies or the nail polish. Something colorful. Saturday night as I toyed with how to structure a paper, I painted my nails alternating red and silver. It's childish, it's bright, it doesn't match any of my clothing, and I feel more like myself when I look at them. It's kind of weird seeing some of my nails match my ring, but whatever, I like silver, it's my favorite of the metallic colors, and I derive pleasure from looking at them. Plus, the ring finger nail ended up being red out of sheer coincidence, since I started with the other hand, and there's a little visual triangulation there that tickles me.
All right, Meg, you've had your morning gripe. Since you have made an executive decision to skip today's colloquium in favor of finishing up that paper, get to it. You even made coffee. You have two hours before you have to leave for class. You should not be writing at 100 words an hour when you can type at 77 words a minute. So. Drink yer damn coffee 'n get ta work!
You know, it's weird, the quirks you notice about yourself when you stop feeling sorry for yourself, take a breath, and just look around. When I procrastinate, I tend to reach for either the Sharpies or the nail polish. Something colorful. Saturday night as I toyed with how to structure a paper, I painted my nails alternating red and silver. It's childish, it's bright, it doesn't match any of my clothing, and I feel more like myself when I look at them. It's kind of weird seeing some of my nails match my ring, but whatever, I like silver, it's my favorite of the metallic colors, and I derive pleasure from looking at them. Plus, the ring finger nail ended up being red out of sheer coincidence, since I started with the other hand, and there's a little visual triangulation there that tickles me.
All right, Meg, you've had your morning gripe. Since you have made an executive decision to skip today's colloquium in favor of finishing up that paper, get to it. You even made coffee. You have two hours before you have to leave for class. You should not be writing at 100 words an hour when you can type at 77 words a minute. So. Drink yer damn coffee 'n get ta work!