I had such high ambitions for the last two days. Wednesday and Thursday. I was going to get the final nonfiction paper done. Or at least well-started. That was the plan. So that tonight I could take my time and work on some poetry for my Rapunzel project. Well, I guess I skipped the working ahead on the nonfiction paper and postponed Rapunzel until after 9:00pm. What did I do instead? Well, there were dishes. There was laundry. I exercised a little. Went to a networking mixer where there was a free game of golf involved. Watched too much television.
But I don’t want to blame the television today. Today I’m blaming my own ennui. The words in my head don’t seem to make any sense. And if they don’t make any sense in there, why should I expect them to make any sense as I attempt to write them out? I can’t stop thinking about mortgages. I can’t stop thinking about how much I don’t know about buying a house, or any other home-like property. I can’t stop thinking about how much I’m not doing for school, for poetry, for my exam. I feel lost, so I sit down and watch. I sit down and doze. I watch rerun after rerun of Seinfeld, Friends, and That 70’s Show. I settle in for a new episode of South Park on Wednesday, and am treated to the WORST EPISODE EVER. It was even worse than the Terrance and Philip episode they did that one April Fool’s Day. It was just not funny. And I expected better. But I digress.
Usually, on a Friday or Saturday Night, it will be okay to put off some studying. But that is only true if I have done some work during the week. This week, I haven’t. So tonight, I need to pour myself a cup of tea and think about the bubbles. Or, you know, write a poem or something.