Of late I have not been able to keep my eyes open.
That statement is not entirely true.
Of late I have frequently not been able to keep my eyes open. When I can, I can't ever close them. I am alternating between pseudo-narcolepsy and insomnia. Mostly it's the sleeping and sleepiness. I can barely get myself to awlk up and down the basement stairs to get to my study spot.
My study spot is by the basement stairway, on the huge architect's table my eldest sister left behind when she moved to France. Ithas many sources of light and many Lord of the Rings action figures, including two Legolases, one six-inch, one twelve-inch, and teeny, tiny Merry and Pippin. Treebeard is going to come to the table soon to hold the teeny, tiny hobbits in his branchy hands. In the organized chaos there are: two Japanese dictionaries and a Japanese phrasebook; ten overdue library books; a candy jar filled with "Creme" Starburst; more index cards than I know what to do with; various items made of paper; two mugs of writing implements, one with Tigger and Pooh, the other with the Yankees logo; notebooks with last semester's notes; a giant dictionary I took home in an attempt to get some payback from a particularly nasty office; a globe; a Woody figurine; an electronic encyclopedia which no longer works; a photograph of my eldest nephew one Halloween about ten years ago when he was the kid from Where the Wild Things Are; and the books assigned this semester.
I am behind in my reading, as the books I needed to read arrived late (shakes fist at sky a la Jon Stewart on The Daily Show "Damn you, Powells.com!") and have had this irresistable urge to sleeeeeeep. When I have managed to get some studying done, I go to bed late, about 2:30 to 3 o'clock in the morning, and have trouble going to sleep. I can't stop worrying about everything I'm screwing up (credit card debt, familial relationships, friendships, academic standing, health, etc.) of late. Mostly I can't help but think that I just don't have time to go to sleep. I need to study. Study. Stuuuuudyyyyyy. This insomnia, naturally, aggravates the supreme sleepiness from which I've been suffering.
Oh, and there's the Incompletes I have to make up. Soon. Like, practically tomorrow. And I haven't done a damned thing except accrue overdue fees on library books.
I'm whining a lot. This is stupid and my fault and I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. It's bizzare. I've been given this second chance after fucking up so royally seven years ago. Maybe it's knowing that even if I get stellar grades and graduate with honors, I'll still have to be a secretary. I'll be heading straight back to the place from which I was desperately trying to escape by going back to school. Why oh why couldn't I be even slightly interested in being a comp sci major or a business major? Something which could get me a real job? Still, this is a stupid reason for being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
That statement is not entirely true.
Of late I have frequently not been able to keep my eyes open. When I can, I can't ever close them. I am alternating between pseudo-narcolepsy and insomnia. Mostly it's the sleeping and sleepiness. I can barely get myself to awlk up and down the basement stairs to get to my study spot.
My study spot is by the basement stairway, on the huge architect's table my eldest sister left behind when she moved to France. Ithas many sources of light and many Lord of the Rings action figures, including two Legolases, one six-inch, one twelve-inch, and teeny, tiny Merry and Pippin. Treebeard is going to come to the table soon to hold the teeny, tiny hobbits in his branchy hands. In the organized chaos there are: two Japanese dictionaries and a Japanese phrasebook; ten overdue library books; a candy jar filled with "Creme" Starburst; more index cards than I know what to do with; various items made of paper; two mugs of writing implements, one with Tigger and Pooh, the other with the Yankees logo; notebooks with last semester's notes; a giant dictionary I took home in an attempt to get some payback from a particularly nasty office; a globe; a Woody figurine; an electronic encyclopedia which no longer works; a photograph of my eldest nephew one Halloween about ten years ago when he was the kid from Where the Wild Things Are; and the books assigned this semester.
I am behind in my reading, as the books I needed to read arrived late (shakes fist at sky a la Jon Stewart on The Daily Show "Damn you, Powells.com!") and have had this irresistable urge to sleeeeeeep. When I have managed to get some studying done, I go to bed late, about 2:30 to 3 o'clock in the morning, and have trouble going to sleep. I can't stop worrying about everything I'm screwing up (credit card debt, familial relationships, friendships, academic standing, health, etc.) of late. Mostly I can't help but think that I just don't have time to go to sleep. I need to study. Study. Stuuuuudyyyyyy. This insomnia, naturally, aggravates the supreme sleepiness from which I've been suffering.
Oh, and there's the Incompletes I have to make up. Soon. Like, practically tomorrow. And I haven't done a damned thing except accrue overdue fees on library books.
I'm whining a lot. This is stupid and my fault and I don't know why I'm doing this to myself. It's bizzare. I've been given this second chance after fucking up so royally seven years ago. Maybe it's knowing that even if I get stellar grades and graduate with honors, I'll still have to be a secretary. I'll be heading straight back to the place from which I was desperately trying to escape by going back to school. Why oh why couldn't I be even slightly interested in being a comp sci major or a business major? Something which could get me a real job? Still, this is a stupid reason for being stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
