Dear reader,
I think self-control is one of the most impressive and admirable qualities you can find in someone; I have so much respect for people who stand up and force themselves to get stuff done, be it homework or otherwise. Or for people who know when it's time to let stuff go, when it's time to say "enough", time to start again, avoid distractions and just get to it.
I am not one of these people. I am distracted and excited by anything and everything aside from what I should be doing: there is a bag of art supplies by my feet burning a hole in my creativity; I sat for much of this afternoon either with a guitar in my hand or looking at one online; I continue to think of ideas for a bloody novel, and I spend far more time than healthy just staring off into space.
And, let's not forget, I'm sitting writing this instead of preparing for the oh-so-important examinations of mine taking place next month. I am Queen of Procrastination, bow before my ridiculous talent of avoiding responsibilities.
It gets worse when I'm stressed, I think. I can't explain it scientifically, but in basic terminology I think it's just a way for my brain to look away and tell me to chill the hell out. And who am I to disobey? That lump of biologically-wired mush kinda decides my every move.
It's improving though, in some aspects of my life. I can make myself get up at ungodly hours of the early morning, for whatever reason, but I can also stay up to ungodly hours of the early morning, for whatever reason. Although, in saying that, it's most likely because I put off finishing some kind of essay due the next morning, which isn't as impressive as it is mind-blowingly stupid.
And y'know what doesn't help with this? Study leave. A terrific idea, sure, but with a fridge at seven seconds walking distance, and an unlimited supply of music to hand, it seems that rather than getting into a deep trance of concentration I'm left either taunted by leftovers or resisting the urge to get up and dance my troubles away.
But there's nothing that can change this habit apart from the very lump of mush that's created it in the first place, even though all that lump of mush wants to do is jump up and flail around after it thought putting a certain Mr Jackson album on shuffle would be a good idea.
Sadly, at the end of the day, I actually can't blame it on the boogie.
Liv.
