I almost got off easy with this whole graduation thing. I honestly believed that three years of shenanigans could earn me a degree- but I was wrong. So, so wrong. The last two weeks have proven to me that no one gets off easy. Especially not me.
Yet, true to the modus operandi of my college existence, I’ve fallen back on my tried and true method feverish cramming to get by. I suppose that if studyage is directly proportional to the importance of the project, then getting my degree should warrant the amount of time I’ve been spending in the library- but that doesn’t really make me feel any better. My eyeballs hurt, my brain feels wrung out, and I’ve been listening to the same Bonobo album for about seven hours a day.
On the other hand, these past days have really done a lot to prove (to myself, at least) how truly good at studying I’ve gotten. I know how to bribe myself into concentrating (usually with sugary foods) and I know which nooks in the library are dark and dank enough to shut out all possible distractions. I’ve got an annotating system that has enabled me to read way too much, way too efficiently, and today I even checked a book out of the library.
That’s right. It only took me three years to figure out that the library is like a free bookstore.
I also know that I can’t function, let alone study, unless I get some kind of workout in. It might be pathetically short, it might even be in the middle of the night, but if I don’t get wiggle time my productivity craters. Which is why my mortal enemy, the travel trac, has become a sort of grudging friend. Its sad, but there’s something super nice about being able to roll out of my paper-filled hamster nest, jump on that wheel, and Pedal my little hamster legs like mad so that I can imagine the wind in my fur…
Yes, this means that College has made me into a hamster.
Today, because I knew that I needed to do some quality work, I decided I needed a quality workout, so I resisted hamstering and went for a little nordic ski.
The first time I ever tried to nordic ski I ended up crawling through the snow, tears in my eyes, beseeching my mom; “make it stop… it’s like walking, only harder,” and she did not buy me any hot chocolate. So I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again- Nordic skiing is the hardest f-ing sport in the world. Which is why I like it now. I have become a masochist in my old age.
Today I went out and attacked it because I was so excited to see the sun, and I think my wax was right or something because I was going way faster than all the little kids out there. (This is a new development) I gleefully skated around until it got dark and I had to go back to my hamster nest. It’s funny, but as I see my next bike season taking shape, it’s involving a surprising amount of skiing.
So that’s all. I have to go continue beating Melville to death now.