Lethargy

So I was out until about 1am last night (or this morning, whatever). I set my alarm clock for 8 so that I can do my homework for today before class starts at 10:30. Alarm goes off at 8, I distinctly remember this. I fumble with my phone (my alarm's on my phone) and I vaguely recall having distinct difficulty resetting the alarm for half-past 8.

Clearly, I was incapable of it.

I woke up at 12:15.

That meant I missed Cognitive Neuroscience and the beginning of Russian. I decided that I'd call Russian quits and just go to my afternoon classes.

Couldn't quite work up the enthusiasm for that, either. So, I didn't go. I'll regret it when my Lit midterm rolls around next week, but for now I'm good.

Anyhow, that's only part of the lethargy problem, though quite arguably the part that needs to be dealt with most urgently. This not bothering to go to class thing is going to bite me in the ass, and I know it.

So I've not done any writing for days. Weeks, really. I didn't last week because last week was the week from hell, but I've no such excuse this weekend.

I'm thinking about calling this nanowriye thing quits. I want to focus on the novel-from-hell, recently retitled the mortal gods, and run it through the not-insignificant edit that it definitely needs. The whole second half needs to be re-written because it all stems from a stupid premise that I rethought to something a bit more sensible. And when I've done that, I want to focus on sending out queries.

It's one of my goals to have an agent by the end of the year.
I've still got 10 months.

However, in mildly humorous news (to me, at least) the paper from hell that I had to write last week, I got back yesterday with an A-. Considering the half-assed job I did of it, I'm frankly stunned, amazed, and amused. Of course, it will help when I flunk the midterm next week.

Way Behind

That seems to be the motto of my life, as of late.

Comparative Politics: Actually not behind in this one
International Security: I've got about 450 pages to read by Wednesday
Cognitive Neuroscience: I haven't even started reading the 6 chapters yet
Russian Literature: I didn't read the last book (250 pgs) and I haven't started reading this one yet (300 pgs)
Russian: Never not behind in this class.

And then, writing. According to my nifty Excel spreadsheet, on the 9th of February, I should be at 220,000 words. Or, in more concrete terms, I should be finishing my second novel today. I'm at 128,688 words. Or, in more concrete terms, I've finished one (at 118,000 words), and I'm 10,000 words into the second.

And of course, there's the fact that the first one of these novels should be getting edited right now, because it's the novel-from-hell and that's all that I ever do with it. Write, edit, re-write, and continue. Except I'm happy with it this re-write, or happier than I've been with any of its gazillion predecessors. I even intended to read it all the way through last night, and make notes to myself about where to start editing. And then I made the mistake of...well, sleeping for 14 hours.

I really want to work on my writing this weekend. But, as listed above, my schoolwork has fallen just as far behind. So, guess it's time for Kate to crack the books.

Comfort Objects

No, this isn't even slightly about writing, not really.

I've got a hell of a week coming up, a paper and two midterms, tuesday, wednesday, thursday. None of which I've started yet, and it's now 10:42. I promised myself I'd get a bunch of things done this weekend. Instead, I think I slept for about 90% of it. It seems these days I can just lie down in bed and I'm right off to sleep. No idea why, and it's getting rather irritating. I'm used to being able to get by on very little sleep.

I've also got a data entry job for $8/hr with my psychology department, 6 hours a week. Boring, but it's better than working in that pizza place like I did last summer.

Then there's all the pressures that are going to hit me in the near future. Getting a room for next year. Declaring a major. Passing all my classes. Finding a summer job. Figuring out what the fuck I want to do with my life, because I don't think that I'll be able to live off my writing straight out of college barring a miracle (and for the record, I don't believe in miracles).

I'm not very good with stress, and I never have been. I'm a perfectionist to the core, and I take on more work than I can handle. It doesn't help that I'm also a procrastinator, because that just makes me put ALL my shit off till the very last second, and then I work myself into a nervous fit. And at that point, the slightest thing anyone says/does can send me into tears. I thrive under pressure, but best not come near me when a deadline is approaching. And I have the hugest fear of rejection in the world. When I applied to colleges, all but one of them that I applied to, I was 99% sure that with my grades, I'd get in. And, surprise surprise, I got into them. I don't date much, because I'm a loner and because I'm afraid that I'll get dumped. I learned about this last semester, it's called avoidant personality disorder. While I don't think I could actually be diagnosed with it (along with at least two other personality disorders I'm not quite clinical in...but no one's perfect, right?), I know that it does put rather a damper on my life.

Anyway, when things get stressful and pressured and I'm just in an all-around shitty/sad/miserable mood, I have one movie that I'll watch over and over again. It's called Love Actually, and it's not like other movies that I tend to watch. But I don't know, for some reason, it restores my faith in humanity (and Hugh Grant is really cute).

I don't eat lots when I'm stressed, I don't go out and do stupid things (fear of rejection, remember), I just sit here and feel vaguely sorry for myself, until I turn on the movie.

And, despite the fact that I have a 5-page paper due on Tuesday, that is exactly what I'm going to do right now.

Season's Greetings!

Well, it's nearly Christmas Eve, and I'm sitting at home on the dial-up connection (though we're getting high-speed on the 27th, I think).

I've rewritten an outline for a mortal god and I'm 2500 words into it so far, but I can't quite motivate myself to write any more. I think I'll write some more tonight, but I'm having one of my spells where I'm convinced that I'll never be a published author. Unfortunately, these spells can last months, and so I'm hoping that with nanowriye starting in a week, I can work myself out of it.

I'm hoping to finish this draft by New Year's, but I realize how unlikely it is. Maybe it'll just sit docilely on my hard drive until the end of the year (if the stupid f%$king laptop lasts that long) and then I can work on it again.

I haven't quite given up the dream of being published before I graduate, but it's looking more and more unrealistic as time goes on.

In any case, happy holidays to all!