The usual procrastination rant
I think I tend to be posting when I ought to be doing something else that I don't want.
The things I could do with the next hour this even:
- iron a heap of clothes that has been waiting for me for two weeks
- hang a freshly washed load of laundry
- write a review for a paper that I need to send out by 15th. (really that ought to be a priority)
- finish a homework that I've had had nearly finished for months and that I really need to send out by September
- write a research project that has been done, finished, that I've even already written a paper on and got it published, and just need to recycle it for one last thing
- get together my application of PhD course in September
- write a couple of emails to determine how the said course is going to be financed - i.e., how to get half the course paid by the Family Medicine Department at the university where I'm going to be an assistant.
- send my husband links to specialisation study materials to get them printed out
- produce a poster for the abstract presentation I'm going to have in Dublin (it's at the end of September, so not that badly a priority)
- clear my desk and put papers and stuff in order.
- clear a cabinet in Gaja's room and put papers in there in order (and out of her cabinet!) - well, she's sleeping in there right now, so that's really not possible, though would be highly necessary
- finish studying the ECG book I'm nearly at the end of, and start with 150 ECG problems books that I got delivered today
- look up the list of things I wanted to check on since Monday at least (I need to review heart failure management, kidney failure management, chronic tiredness syndrome and something else I don't remember rigth now because I left the note with the list written on it at work)
- call my mentor and ask her about a patient that has me baffled. Two patients, in fact. *sigh* Possibly better not done either because it's 10pm here.
Basically, hwatever I do I'm going to be hopelessly behind. So I suppose I might as well read Kim Stanley Robinson's Antarctica. *L* Or Cassie Clare's City of Bones that I've been thinking about for the last few days. Or maybe write a couple of paragraphs of the story... ;)
The things I could do with the next hour this even:
- iron a heap of clothes that has been waiting for me for two weeks
- hang a freshly washed load of laundry
- write a review for a paper that I need to send out by 15th. (really that ought to be a priority)
- finish a homework that I've had had nearly finished for months and that I really need to send out by September
- write a research project that has been done, finished, that I've even already written a paper on and got it published, and just need to recycle it for one last thing
- get together my application of PhD course in September
- write a couple of emails to determine how the said course is going to be financed - i.e., how to get half the course paid by the Family Medicine Department at the university where I'm going to be an assistant.
- send my husband links to specialisation study materials to get them printed out
- produce a poster for the abstract presentation I'm going to have in Dublin (it's at the end of September, so not that badly a priority)
- clear my desk and put papers and stuff in order.
- clear a cabinet in Gaja's room and put papers in there in order (and out of her cabinet!) - well, she's sleeping in there right now, so that's really not possible, though would be highly necessary
- finish studying the ECG book I'm nearly at the end of, and start with 150 ECG problems books that I got delivered today
- look up the list of things I wanted to check on since Monday at least (I need to review heart failure management, kidney failure management, chronic tiredness syndrome and something else I don't remember rigth now because I left the note with the list written on it at work)
- call my mentor and ask her about a patient that has me baffled. Two patients, in fact. *sigh* Possibly better not done either because it's 10pm here.
Basically, hwatever I do I'm going to be hopelessly behind. So I suppose I might as well read Kim Stanley Robinson's Antarctica. *L* Or Cassie Clare's City of Bones that I've been thinking about for the last few days. Or maybe write a couple of paragraphs of the story... ;)