I've hit the stage of perpetual-paper-writing where I'll be sitting here, typing away, and suddenly think 'Land sakes! There is lint in the lint trap! That simply must be attended to.' The end is near (my last two papers and my final presentation are due on the 16th, and then I have one lonely exam on the 23rd) but I just don't want to be organizing my thoughts in a coherent and grammatically-correct manner any more. I'd rather be doing ANYthing else.
This attitude has its perks. I've been going to the gym, neglected parts of our suite are being cleaned (you should see our toaster oven), Joel is getting a few home-cooked meals, I finished the 7th Harry Potter book in 2 days (he dies*), my eyebrows are really well groomed.
Currently, I'm working on a rhetorical analysis of a text. This sounds a lot more upper-level than it is. Basically, I'm looking at a text, and figuring out what the vocabulary and sentence structure and so forth indicate about the author, the intended audience, and the implied purpose. We got to pick our text, and with a stroke of what seemed like genius but was actually boneheadedness, I chose a discussion thread from a Facebook group. I thought it'd be off the beaten path of rhetorical analyses, and kind of interesting and fun, especially since I'm a raging Face-aholic. I forgot that when you take the road less travelled, you have to work a good bit harder to get to where you're going. So now I'm working with multiple authors, a hazy implied purpose, a malleable text (ie. it is not permanent text, set down in print, but rather a growing, expanding discussion that can be manipulated or refuted. I might use that sentence in my paper), and a strong desire to brew more coffee.
Last weekend, I had no plans. I also had no useful information regarding my two papers and presentation, information like topics, length, other group members (for the presentation), etc. This weekend, I'm going in to Burnaby to visit some friends, and we've been planning this excursion for months, and of the four of us, two of us have rescheduled (read: bailed) and I will NOT be the third because then Jon will say mean things about me on our Facebook group (I know), and tomorrow I'm going to Cultus overnight with my lovely ladies-who-write, and while (due to the nature of the group) a nice chunk of that time is set aside for writing, I'd waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay rather be writing something interesting, and not dissecting some high school kid's inane postings. Suffice it to say, it will be a busy weekend, and I've got this slippery beast of a paper (which is, mercifully, quite short), a whopping monster that is standing in as a final exam and, combined with the presentation also due on that day, worth 45% of my mark. There's something unsettling about nearly half my letter grade coming up due in a single 3-hour period. What if I'm having an off day?
H'anyways, all that to say, gripe gripe gripe, and I have successfully not worked on my paper for almost half an hour. Zoot!
*May not be real spoiler, but rather cruel practical joke. You'll just have to read the book, won't you?
1 comment:
I think there is a point at school, work or other obliged activity where your mind's dramatic self throws its hands up in the air and shrieks in a voice only you can hear, "That's IT! WHO CARES!" And you are my hero for getting past that voice (or working with it) and still sounding brilliant. I may or may not have been satiating that voice when I quit my job...
HANY-vas, as my friend Lindsay and I have become prone to say (and then gigging), "It could be worse" and you can insert your own terrible it-could-be-like-this statement.
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