Procrasti-nation

Dear readers, allow me waste both your and my time.

I returned from the rainforest on the 28th, a Friday. That gave me nearly 2 weeks. Its understandable after such an exhausting trip that I would want to rest.

Saturday and Sunday roll by. Don’t go out, don’t do work, simply enjoy the remnants of my mid-semester break. I’m sure you can all relate.

Monday breezes in, and I’m finally ready to get started. Two 2000 word research essays wont do themselves, ya know? Except, turns out there’s a themed college party. I have about the same willpower to resist alcohol as an infant does to sucking titties.

Tuesday, and I’m free all afternoon. However, on my way to the library, I decide to stop by the Red Room, the university bar, to say hello to a few friends of mine briefly. This is at 2pm. We’re kicked out of the Red Room at 7pm, at which point we go to the middle of an abandoned lot and all share a handle of Smirnoff. Pretty sure alcohol kills the herpes virus, right? I make it back to my room after 10, and have to endure a girl snoring on my floor with her cooch hanging out. How she managed to strip and flash me in her sleep is beyond my simple powers to process.

Wednesday, I forsake class to crash in Carden Room for a good 3 pathetic hours. At which point we go to the Red Room for trivia night. I show off my dorkitude and win us a free jug of beer, but again work and I pass like ships in the night.

Thursday, I need to get started. The paper is due Monday. Sunday night is gay night at The Family, so that’s already a write-off. So maybe I’ll just go on an optional field trip to the middle of the forest at night to look for Sugar Gliders. That’s productive. Afterwards, the tutors and a few of us who hang behind share some beers and reminisce about home. Another box of the calendar x-ed off.

Friday is college bar night, not to be confused with the Red Room, the university bar. After a fungal lab steals my entire afternoon (a legitimate excuse), I need to make a choice. After all, last time I went to college bar, it was boring as sin.

Ah, fuck it. I’ll go to college bar later. Give myself 2 hours to do some serious work.

2 hours of reading a funny book later, its time to make my requisite quick visit to the bar. The standard dress code is a collared shirt, so I slip on something nice, walk down the block, and come face to face with Wonder Woman. And The Riddler. And is that supposed to be Jack Sparrow? Yes, it’s another theme night. They always seem to find an excuse to wear tights.

After an hour or so and a few beers, I’m ready to go. But one girl wont hear of it. I must, she demands, come to a house party full of strangers I’ve never even heard of. But sure, why not. Its not like 30% of my grade is due Monday.

The party is composed mainly of Argentinean and French exchange students. Strange bedfellows, literally enough. With nothing in common with the crowd, we decide to pilfer booze. A sack of boxed wine will do. I lean my head back, and she attempts to pour it into my mouth.

I discover the purpose of a secondary palate as she pours it into my nose.

After spilling all over me and nearly throwing up, we mingle alittle bit. A girl from Singapore tries to pick me up. The entire Argentinean college soccer team tries to pick her us. We decide we’d rather drink whiskey, eat kebabs, and call it a night. All things considered, 2am is still fairly early, but I’m in no state to work.

Its Saturday, and I’ve already declared Sunday a write-off. I have no choice but to stay in, break my 5 night (or afternoon) drinking streak, and accomplish some serious work. And to be honest, I actually do get work accomplished. I find about 4 sources to use on my essay before I take a break. Decide to go research Sydney gay bars for a bit.

No better way than to ask the locals, I suppose. Find myself a gay Australian internet chat, and ask away. If you think that sounds sleazy, you’re right. If you’re suspicious of who’s on a chatroom like this, you should be. If you’re curious why I spent the next 5 hours trying to preemptively pick up strangers in Sydney to go clubbing (or more) with, despite the fact that I have a giant essay looming, despite the fact that I’m not going for a month and a half, you need to shut the fuck up and stop thinking.

I try to write at 4am. It doesn’t work. Instead, I’ll set my clock to noon, have lunch, and have a good 5 hours to write my essay before going to The Family.

I wake up at about 5pm. Ahh, fuck me in the goat ass!

So here I sit, dear friends. Its Sunday night, and I have a giant essay looming. The responsible thing to do is to not go out clubbing. On the other hand, I could go out, then afterwards attempt to write a paper at 9am while hung over and still coming down from a mystery pill. Decide for me, dear blog readers (all 2 of you), because I’m done using this blog post as another method to delay the inevitable.