4 posts tagged “self-sabotage”
Er. Yes. I guess that's all I have to say. I have a lot to do, and it's making me a tiny bit unhappy. As of 6/26/07, 6:48 p.m., it is not yet done.
For the next few weeks I'll be in an undisclosed location doing undisclosed work for an undisclosed company. The location is not California, Illinois, Wisconsin, Massachusetts or Europe; it is somewhere else. Internet access has been dicey, but I think I've found a solution, after 48 fruitless and panicky hours. Now that I've solved that problem, I owe my graduate program an edited journal issue; my advisors, two term papers and a thesis; my undisclosed employer, many hours of labor; seventypes, a position on vegetarianism and ethics; the rest of you, a gloss on the survey results. Those are in random order up to "employer."
My brain is toast. I spent several days writing a thesis draft like a maniac; halfway through it I realized it had as much coherence and insight as the products of a typical manic episode, but I had to turn it in anyway— and I don't know what dire entity has been draining my wisdom and energy this semester, but it's fucking merciless. I've owed phone calls or emails to friends for months, I haven't been riding my bike, haven't been taking the calcium, haven't been writing much of anything. But I really shouldn't go into it: these stress-engendered litanies take on a life of their own, poisoning everyone with fear and lowered expectations. Expect the world from me! Expect brilliance! Expect a complete recovery! Expect defeat to shrivel! Expect infrequent posts, anyway.
Episode n: Saving the Bus Fare
1. I walk to the bus stop with a backpack full of library books. No bus. Nice day; I'll walk to campus. I pocket the $1.75 and start walking.
2. I walk past an Indonesian restaurant. Oseng-Oseng Tempeh! I quietly do the Oseng-Oseng Tempeh dance, in my heart, and make secret heart-plans to eat some soon.
3. I walk past Eastwind Books of Berkeley, and pause to look at the sale cart. It is at this point that I make a really fatal discovery: I always assumed this place sold only goofy "wisdom of the East" paraphernalia, incense, silky sweatshop clothes, etc., but it turns out to be chock full of East Asian and Asian-American literature, history books, language texts, etc.
2. I leave Eastwind Books with copies of Dialogues in Paradise and Commons, having put in an order for Blue Light in the Sky & Other Stories. I am too ashamed— and even a bit frightened— to look at the extensive clearance shelves.
5. I learn to count again. It is now Three PM.
6. I get to the library and am tired and thirsty. I buy an espresso, a "Juice Squeeze," and a Luna bar.
7. I discover the bus fare in my pocket.
8. The library is packed with students. Berkeley was heavily oversubscribed this year to begin with. I get the books I came for and go home.
9. I walk past two people in dialogue. One of them is saying, "I should have made it clearer that it was a short story and not a blog entry." This is a blog entry.
10. I begin thinking about the tempeh again.
I'm still unable to give a proper definition in my research paper, but the Google results for gnoseology made me pretty happy. Being momentarily face-to-face with a gilded flicker also made me pretty happy. So you probably think that, overall, I'm pretty happy, but I'm not sure. Sleepiness is interfering with my ability to monitor these things. And I've been having epically ridiculous paper-writing adventures, which are not yet over, for reasons surely connected to my tendency to pick paper topics like "use of figurative language in Romantic poetry, and its relation to consciousness and history."
