DEATH
Okay so this week is going to suck:
1) I have three reports due, only one of which is done; the second is half-done, and the third I've hardly started. (Three excruciatingly dull and highly technical reports - the kind I excel at writing, but which make me want to stab my eyes out with a fork with every passing paragraph.) Let it just be known that I haven't had a vacation since Christmas, I have easily a month's worth of sleep-debt, I have about ten million more important and interesting things to do, and I am so turned off by the thought of writing them that I'm actively resisting the need to just get down and write the fucking things.
2) I'm moving this week. My lease ends on the exact same day that my new one begins, so needless to say I'm in a corner where I can't just move my crap into my new apartment at my leisure. It is going to be a clusterfuck and my boyfriend and I are both extremely busy as it is. Our roommate is not helping. It is pissing me the hell off. He'll like wipe a small part of the floor if I ask him to help me clean. I mean I'm not good at all about keeping on top of clutter, especially when I'm running around like a crazy lady between two labs, class, and my errands, but it seems I am the only person who knows how to actualy give this place a thorough cleaning. And I am not an efficient cleaner. Ugh.
This would suck less if I had done the intelligent thing and actually planned stuff - and executed it - in advance, but alas, I did not do that (would you believe that I chose to do lab work instead of a) schoolwork, and b) move preparation?). So here I am, as always, sitting atop a pile of papers, binders, dirty laundry, dust bunnies, boxes, and chaos so distressing that it actually makes me feel like my head is going to explode.
(- For the record, I have a pretty high tolerance for disaster and am generally bemused by people who putter about ENDLESSLY REORGANIZING SHIT THAT HASN'T MOVED SINCE THEY LAST TOUCHED IT, so this - I feel like my distress over this pile of entropy must be a sign of maturity or something. Because it is really, really flipping me out. Ngh.)
Gah. Well. Anyway. Sorry. Had to rant. Once I get my summer research report done (that's entirely separate from the other reports I'm in the middle of writing), I think I am going to blow the hell out of dodge for a week and take a break.
1) I have three reports due, only one of which is done; the second is half-done, and the third I've hardly started. (Three excruciatingly dull and highly technical reports - the kind I excel at writing, but which make me want to stab my eyes out with a fork with every passing paragraph.) Let it just be known that I haven't had a vacation since Christmas, I have easily a month's worth of sleep-debt, I have about ten million more important and interesting things to do, and I am so turned off by the thought of writing them that I'm actively resisting the need to just get down and write the fucking things.
2) I'm moving this week. My lease ends on the exact same day that my new one begins, so needless to say I'm in a corner where I can't just move my crap into my new apartment at my leisure. It is going to be a clusterfuck and my boyfriend and I are both extremely busy as it is. Our roommate is not helping. It is pissing me the hell off. He'll like wipe a small part of the floor if I ask him to help me clean. I mean I'm not good at all about keeping on top of clutter, especially when I'm running around like a crazy lady between two labs, class, and my errands, but it seems I am the only person who knows how to actualy give this place a thorough cleaning. And I am not an efficient cleaner. Ugh.
This would suck less if I had done the intelligent thing and actually planned stuff - and executed it - in advance, but alas, I did not do that (would you believe that I chose to do lab work instead of a) schoolwork, and b) move preparation?). So here I am, as always, sitting atop a pile of papers, binders, dirty laundry, dust bunnies, boxes, and chaos so distressing that it actually makes me feel like my head is going to explode.
(- For the record, I have a pretty high tolerance for disaster and am generally bemused by people who putter about ENDLESSLY REORGANIZING SHIT THAT HASN'T MOVED SINCE THEY LAST TOUCHED IT, so this - I feel like my distress over this pile of entropy must be a sign of maturity or something. Because it is really, really flipping me out. Ngh.)
Gah. Well. Anyway. Sorry. Had to rant. Once I get my summer research report done (that's entirely separate from the other reports I'm in the middle of writing), I think I am going to blow the hell out of dodge for a week and take a break.