quelquefois

I know you’re very resilient creatures, surviving wave after wave of civilization as far back as the Stone Age (or something like that, but I’m not going to check Wikipedia to fact-check because there will undoubtedly be a photo of you, and that will make me faint), but do you really have to come into my [temporary] home? I know, I’m living on the ground floor of an apartment building that borders Chinatown, but seriously, can you cut me a little slack? At least you could be considerate enough not to bombard the place with your presence. One or two every so often would be tolerable. Or hey, how about this, you can invite your pest friends, mice, to come take your place. At least we’re in the same class of animals.

Are you preparing me for life in China? I remember you and your over 2-inch long selves often surprised me by coming up from the shower drain and paying my room a visit. Well guess what? When I get an apartment, I’m going to find one on the 210398120420th floor so you can’t get there.

Sincerely,
A panic-stricken tenant in the Lower East Side

Here I am again. I’s 4:06 a.m., and I still have work to do. Initially I had thought finals would be rather swift, but it has come to my attention that this may turn out to be a long, iterated process. It doesn’t help that I am so close to finishing and enjoying the rest of my senior year. It’s somewhat paradoxical in that I want to be done so that I can relax, but I want to relax, so I do not do what needs to be done.

I’m currently working on a final exam for an introduction to European history course (I detest this class; it is the bane of my Concentration Requirement Existence). Basically it’s Bull Shitting 101. Although I thought I’d never get tired of it, I am. I’m tired of comparing and contrasting “war reparations” and “The Marshall Plan,” and, “Auschwitz” and “The Somme” in 350 words or less. It is times like this when I wish I had studied harder to get that 5 on the AP Euro exam…

Ughaldhaskjh, 4 a.m. ramblings. Nothing worthy to report at this hour.

…until my first draft is due! I’m not sure of my exact page count–because a lot of it is still messy–but I am definitely over the 175-page mark. Holy shit, that’s book-length. I have four completed chapters; my fifth is destined (I can feel it) to be finished by early Sunday morning. The sixth will be written on Sunday, followed by a thorough read through of the entire thing. And again on Monday, then pop a copy in both of my advisor’s offices! BAM!

I can’t believe that I have spent almost 20 hours of each day of the past week working on this damn thing. After I turn in my thesis I still have to do so much (e.g., jobs, internships, photography, research paper [fuck...]…the list goes on)…

I am just about to reach the 150-page mark. I have approximately three completed chapters (of six), one that is almost there, and two blank documents. Of these, none have been revised, and all are desperately crying for revisions, proofreading, and logic.

Sometimes I wonder why I’m doing this. I wonder why I didn’t just do more work earlier (the question that no doubt will plague me for the rest of my life). Last night (night?) I slept at 9 a.m. and woke up at 2 p.m. The night before? 6 a.m. It would make sense just to sleep earlier so I can wake up earlier and continue working, but I often find that it is at 3 and 4 a.m. that I start to get on a roll. This is most likely attributed to my tendency to dilly-dally at the computer until I realise that it’s incredibly late.

I need discipline. Although I cannot bear to go several hours without checking the news, checking my e-mail (I actually turned off all Blackberry message notifications!), fantasizing about jobs, reading photography and design blogs, and posting in my own (oops), I have to abstain from distractions for six days (hey, when it’s put that way, six days is a lot to write….nevermind) until I turn in my first draft.

I want to die. I can’t believe the first draft of my entire thesis is due in 13 days.

Today was the first day I ordered a “venti” sized caffeinated drink at Starbucks. I don’t even know why I’ve been drinking Starbucks lattes–they’re pretty shitty. I figured maybe ordering an extra shot of espresso would offset the shittiness that comes with the smaller “tall” size (what’s up with their sizing system, anyway? Do they think they’re superior because they have special terminology for their cup sizes?). Lesson? Starbucks = failure.

I ended up writing about sixty pages of my thesis and turned that in yesterday afternoon. What lies between me and [temporary] academic incarceration is a twenty-five page paper. Wait, I lie. Then I have to write my third thesis chapter before I head home on 24 December.

Lord.

My life is moving at an incredible speed right now. There is so much happening, but definitely not enough time to entertain all the possibilities (nor the fiscal capacity, for that manner).

This past weekend I made a trip up to Cambridge for a friend’s twenty-first birthday/costume party. Other friends from home also made the trip up. Despite the fact that 1) I did not sleep much at all that night because I was taking care of the Birthday Girl; and 2) I had to miss my train to return to Cambridge to pick up a book I had left at her place, I enjoyed myself. It had been a while since I stepped foot somewhere where I did not recognize 99% of the people.

Today, from 4:00-9:0o P.M., I had 5 consecutive, non-stop meetings, including conducting two interviews. This has left me incapacitated for the evening. Help?

Speaking of help, my thesis is in shambles. I cannot bring myself to focus on it. And, speaking of focusing, I am actually in the library right now attempting to craft some semblance of an argument. This is bad, isn’t it? I aim to get 10-20 pages of quality material by the end of this week. I have a feeling, though, that that’s not going to happen.

There is a constant feeling of pressure over my head, and I’m trying hard to not to bend under it. My academic schedule is challenging, my thesis is a huge question mark, and my extracurriculars are taking over every second of free time I have. That, coupled with the ubiquitous rush to apply for jobs, fellowships, scholarships has gotten me over my head.

My face has been twitching incessantly in the past few days, and I am starting to get stress headaches.

I try so so so so hard to understand economics and statistics, but I am so disadvantaged to have not ever had any background in these fields. I’m so stupid.

When I think about myself lately, the first word that comes up is “wilted.” I am drained, tired, disfigured.