Sunday, December 5, 2010

Effing H I Hate This Time of Year

            I’ll give someone a dollar if they can point out something good about this time of year. Seriously. Final papers. Final classes (I’m pretty sure I’ll miss you lot). People getting sick or sliding their trucks into ditches because it’s balls ass cold out and there’s more ice on the road than road. Having to pick up extra shifts at work because people are getting sick or sliding their trucks into ditches because it’s balls ass cold out and there’s more ice on the road than snow. Tidal Echoes madness and emails and more madness and sorting through a bajillion submissions and slightly more madness and a lot more chaos, which you can’t get to for like three days because of aforementioned ice and balls ass cold. I’ll seriously give someone a dollar if they can name one good thing about this time of year.
            I was kidding about the dollar. I’m poor, don’t carry cash around, and need that dollar for laundry money.
            That was me bitching for no particular reason; I’m actually in a fairly good mood. Which I really shouldn’t be, considering the aforementioned chaos that comes with the end of the semester. Plus I’m looking for an apartment big enough to comfortably share with my redhead of choice, which is a surprisingly good excuse to be horribly unproductive. Or at least productive in all the wrong categories.
            Although I have discovered a helpful tip for getting through this insanity. Ready for it? Here it is: don’t be productive.
            Seriously. I’ve discovered that reading about a hundred pages or so of something I like and isn’t assigned keeps my sanity long enough to get to, or sometimes even through, whatever it is I have to do.
            See Emily? Crappy rhyming like that is reason enough for me to stay the Hell away from poetry.
            I suggested this to Courtney when I bumped into her in the library (after a surprisingly detailed conversation about the many reasons my name is the greatest name of all time), and the lady politely suggested I was out of my effing mind, and suggested, respectfully, that I put Order of the Phoenix down and start hacking away at the mountain of assignments I had to do before the end of the term.
            She also did that awesomely hilarious stare that only she can do, where you’re being an idiot, and she knows you’re being an idiot, but won’t tell you you’re being an idiot, because that would be rude. That look’s in my top ten patently individual stares/looks/expressions of all time (Emily has like six of the remaining nine).
            Seriously though, read X amount of stuff that you actually like to read every, and you’ll stay slightly saner than you would otherwise. I’d be willing to be a dollar on it. Doesn’t have to be a hundred pages, that just works for me because a hundred is pretty much the best number ever, and only takes like two hours, tops, for me to get through. Provided I actually like what I’m reading.

            So that was my helpful tip for maintaining a grip on your sanity. It also brings this edition of Inside Andy’s Thought Process to an end. Admittedly it was pretty much pointless, and really just an excuse for me to ramble and blow off a little bit of steam/stress/whathaveyou before I get back to that mountain of assignments Courtney told me to get started on back in the library.

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