Saturday, July 9, 2011

What is this Feeling?

Today, I was productive.
Let me repeat, folks: I. Was. Productive.
I was actually productive. In fact, I think this was the most productive I've been for the past few weeks (make that months?) Maybe it's a sad fact of Summer that you just can't function at the same level of productivity as you do during the school year. Or maybe I was just being exceptionally lazy.
There was one point last week as I was swamped by in the morass of my own infernal inefficiency and inertia I realized that what I'd accomplished in the last week was roughly approximate to what I could accomplish in about 5 seconds at school.

Granted, there's this ringer of a cold that I couldn't seem to shake. And granted, I had to tend to my younger brother who was plagued with bronchitis (have you ever taken a eight-year-old hypochondriac with bronchitis to the pediatrician? Don't.) And granted, it was hot. (How anyone accomplishes anything in the tropics boggles my mind. Those people who dug the Panama Canal must have been somewhat like superheroes.)
There. Those are my excuses. Rather pathetic, but now they're out on the table.

Longingly, I thought of those days where I would set up three meetings, go to classes, get work done, run four errands before lunch, fill out boggles of paperwork, attend two meetings, hit up Mass, volunteer at the retired nuns' convent, go to rehearsal, write a paper, attend a study session, and do homework all in the space of 24 hours.
What happened to you? I wondered.
And then I didn't care.
And I continued watching Hugh Grant be bumbling and charming in Notting Hill.
And I didn't care some more.
Not caring felt gooood.
Except it didn't. It felt like I ate a whole French silk pie in one sitting. Which is a lovely feeling while you're eating the pie, but right after you finish you kind of feel like Stonehenge is in your stomach.
And that's just not fun.
So, I decided to be productive. That meant getting rid of Hugh Grant, turning on *all* the fans I could find, and hunkering down and responding to all of the e-mails that I was ignoring. And I hemmed my father's pants (putting those costuming classes to good use!); and I went to work, made some money, you know; and I took my little siblings to the library; and I memorized Notre Dame facts for tour guiding (Did you know that Bond Hall [the architecture building] used to be the university library? ); and I read to my little sisters, and got dinner on the table, and I realized that I (might) be more on top of things than I think I am. That's a good feeling.
We'll see how long this burst of activity sticks.
(knocks on wood)

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