~An Entire Bag of Potato Chips~
There is only a hand full of activities I would like more than to spend every moment of my twenty-four hour day writing… writing blog posts, snippets, poems, and even those little notes I like to scribble myself before bed.
However… when the writing task is mutilated into that of an essay or a case study, as I am hopelessly procrastinating from at this time, the intrinsic motivation has flown from my body and migrated south for the semester.
As I spend time writing this post, I ignore the fact that this paper is due on Tuesday… three days from this exact point in time, minus eight hours. I ignore the test I have scheduled for this Monday, you know, the one based on all those readings I neglected? I ignore the millions of letters, which make up the thousands of words I will have to skim – not read – that create hundreds of sentences inside tens of books I have barely dusted off from the bookstore.
What day is it? The nineteenth?! Has it really been three weeks?
I throw my head into my hands and sulk over the coming thirteen weeks. I panic over my fifth semester, me, a junior in college. Can you believe it?
I’m a semester away from study abroad, three semesters away from student teaching, and a whopping six-hundred and something days away from the rest of my life.
What was I suppose to be doing again? Oh that case study paper, right.
I tell myself I have “senioritis,” the excuse an upperclassman gives his peers for why they’ve stopped trying. “Who cares? We’re almost there! This sh*t won’t matter soon. Chill out and have a beer.” I think about a lazy, two hundred and ten pound football player failing a third of his classes and sipping his corona while watching the big game on screen with his buddies. The sad truth is, I’m no better. I’ve been a victim of senioritis since freshman year, and I’m still getting over the senioritis I had in high school.
I like to just pretend that one day I’ll be famous. It doesn’t matter how I accomplish that, just that it’ll happen. I like to have daydreams about being on the red carpet in the middle of class – or worse – in the middle of an exam.
Just like I’ll be doing on Monday when I have zero words read off the study guide and no information processed. Did she even give us a study guide?
In the half hour It took my to write this blog post, which somehow became incredibly side tracked and went in the complete opposite direction from what I had originally planed, I have done but one other accomplishing task.
I finished an entire bag of potato chips.
And a sea of desperate college students flood behind me in the shape of a broadway choir to sing the words I wish were true, “You should put that on a resume,” before the curtain drops and we move on to the next scene of my life.