deadlines and life

In a relatively rough place atm. Nothing tragic, just the ‘usual’ bout of minor depression that swings by three or four times a year. Ugh… I feel terrible right now. My colleague brings her dog in once in a while, and I felt bad enough today that I actually sought out the dog and coaxed it into licking my hand. And that was the most comforting thing I’ve had in the last while. I mean, that is kinda sad… but I really want a dog now. I mean, fuck.

September 30th is a big deadline for me – two small papers and one really big one due. And I’m screwed. Just screwed. One of them I’m just going to have to email the professor and drop out of – it’s the course in German that served two purposes: to improve my German and to prove some kinda point. Well, fuck the German for now – I’ve done the presentation already, and painfully translating 2000 more words for my essay is not an efficient way to improve language skills. Fuck the point, too. I’ll prove another point some other time. The second small paper I wanna do just because I know I can get a good grade plus what a waste to have spent a semester filled with gruellingly dull lecture. So I have to do that, if only just to pass.

The big one scares me. I have no topic right now. 6000 words. And I’ve only got evenings and weekends. 29 days left.

It’s totally affecting work, as well. I’m just going through the motions at work, trying not to get into anything too deep because I’m gone in a month. Horrible, I know, but I somehow just can’t deal with the stress of a big event that’s in less than 3 weeks. It also feels like every minute I’m at work is a minute I’m not writing my papers, which is a horrible feeling. I know I’m not doing a very good job at work and it bums me out because I wish I were.

Social life is naturally suffering too, as I spend every spare minute of the day feeling guilty that I’m not working on a paper and utterly unable to enjoy life. I’ve hardly spoken to anyone in the last three weeks and I think I might be going mental. Speaking of mental, my flatmate definitely is. I wanna move out so bad but simply can’t afford to, financially-speaking.

I get home every day around 7, eat and proceed to spend the next 4-5 hours in front of the laptop. Rough patch. It’ll probs clear up come October, but that’s too late because my internship will be nearly over by then and it’ll also be getting too cold to do anything fun. And then, of course, the bloody semester starts mid-October. But I have so much bureaucratic shit I need to sort out by then. Like applying for this stupid scholarship, and possibly applying for part-time studies.

I def have spent way too many evenings cooped up in this 3x4m room. I would really like to have a cup of tea and a comforting chat with someone. The pang of loneliness is intensifying. After this madness (ie. the first of October) I need to sit down with myself, somewhere quiet and cosy and comforting, and just sort the fuck out of my life.

PS. the world is going to shit! One easy example: The reactionary measures being taken up in England due to the looting look like they belong in a movie – V for Vendetta, say, or Nineteen-Eighty-Four – or at least a different century (try pre-WWII). And here I bloody am, sitting at my desk, not doing a goddamn thing about any of the political unaccountability that’s going on in our ELECTED ‘democracies’. I look at stuff like the peaceful sit-in in front of the White House in protest against the Keystone pipeline (where a colleague got arrested, apparently) and think, ‘jee, I wish I were there’ or ‘I would totally be there if I could’. But WOULD I? Years of experience has taught me that laziness usually wins the day. And yet I get so worked up over the injustice and idiocy that’s being disseminated in our countries…


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