Sunday, August 16, 2009

Stress ^ Next Level

Haha. This is going to be the best August-September of my life. I have done a lot of things I shouldn't have done. The words "prioritization", "responsibility", "role model", and "time management" have been sucked by a blackhole.

I'm so stressed on anticipating my death that I think I won't survive. I want a diploma, schmuck!

Crapolla! I watched 2 seasons worth (that would be around 26 episodes, and a whole lot of hours) of some TV series I shouldn't have been watching. I bought stuff wherein I should've been saving money (saving for nothing really). I should've been studying for the most neurotic 2 weeks of my life, but I didn't. I should've been starting a report that would engulf me alive but I haven't. I should be reading and stuffing ideologies in my hippocampus but I haven't done so. I shouldn't be downing 3 cups of brewed coffee (I only drink decaf and I'm more of a tea-person), but I just did because I'm in love with an inanimate object - the coffee maker. I seriously must look for decaffeinated coffee beans.

Now, my innards are all shaking because of stress, agony, anticipation of failure and death, and have I mentioned stress already? (Don't worry, I won't mutilate myself anytime soon.)

Thing is, I won't start reading/studying until the second bell rings. Really, I'm supposed to be engulfing academics right now but I just typed this entry. Great, eh?

MORAL: There are things you hate about yourself and things you really like about yourself. Like, I'm happy with my hair, my non-existent sense of humor, my stomach, and a few more things. Though I really hate one part of myself that when in crunch time, I float away. I suddenly think of theories of everything, I jot down stuff in a notebook, and I contemplate on life, wherein I'm supposed to study about how Aristotle lost his hair while strolling around figuring how a data center could produce a statistical analysis whether or not people want to buy insurance, all while believing in integral evangelization.

I always, always, always, (really) always wait for the emergency alarm before I get out of a burning building. I already noticed the smoke, but I won't go out.

I know it's a ridiculous thing and it's very irresponsible, but the thrill I get when I survive is out-of-this world (no, I don't do drugs). Tragic part is that when I'm stuck, I have no one else to blame but myself.

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