Procrastination and its Ramifications
Fox's post-Super Bowl programming kept me in front of the television until around eleven-thirty last night. Simmering on the academic backburner were two essays, due the following morning. What am I saying? They weren't simmering at all - they were dead cold, since I hadn't even started them, nor had I read the two lengthy plays which each had to separately discuss.
11:35pm - I decide to get right to work on my reading.
1:30am - I finally open the book. "I think I'll read on my bed," I thought, making a mound of pillows on which to comfortably rest my head. I begin reading.
2:45am - I awake from my sleep. My book is open to the second page of play number one. I curse my foolishness, but I'm thankful I had left the bright lights of my room on, because they made it more difficult to rest comfortably. I decide that if I'm going to be reading on my bed, I had better set my alarm clock to go off every hour or so, just in case.
4:49am - I finally make my way to the end of the first play, but time is running thin, and I realize that the second reading will be nowhere near as thorough. I begin skimming over the text, nodding off now and then, but jotting down the important tid-bits as I see them, act by act. "Lord Byron, you windbag, you."
9:00am - After a little reading and a lot of sleeping I have a general idea about what I'm going to write. I drink some very strong coffee and then allow myself an hour to work on each paper, since they were both due at 11:30am and I wanted to leave the house by 11.
11:30am - I'm done, but I'm late. I jog to the bus stop and wait there with an elderly woman and later, a guy about my age. He's fat, dirty, and looks like an asshole.
"I'm an asshole."
11:36am - The bus hums to a stop and Mr. Asshole decides he wants to hop aboard before the little old lady - who had been waiting there longer than either of us! The ground was icy and as he shouldered past her, he nearly caused her to lose her footing. I was already pissed that I was late at this point, so why not blow off some steam, I thought. After writing that post on pedestrian etiquette, I've been even more conscious of this sort of rude behavior.
I grabbed the fat fuck by the back of his jacket and tossed him back across the sidewalk and into the snowbank. Since he was so large and already up the stair of the bus, this was an easy maneuvre, because gravity did most of the work. The bus driver wasn't alarmed in the slightest, either. In fact, he looked pleased I had done something.
A picture of the fat asshole in the snowbank. ..
Okay, it's not him, but I had to add this.
"After you, ma'am," I said, gesturing for the woman to go ahead of me. At first she hesitated, a little alarmed at what had just happened, but then she gave me a smile and thanked me as we got on. I sat with her at the front, and gave fatass the most hateful look I could as he walked to the back of the bus in silence; visibly embarrassed, his clothing soaked with slush.
11:35pm - I decide to get right to work on my reading.
1:30am - I finally open the book. "I think I'll read on my bed," I thought, making a mound of pillows on which to comfortably rest my head. I begin reading.
2:45am - I awake from my sleep. My book is open to the second page of play number one. I curse my foolishness, but I'm thankful I had left the bright lights of my room on, because they made it more difficult to rest comfortably. I decide that if I'm going to be reading on my bed, I had better set my alarm clock to go off every hour or so, just in case.
4:49am - I finally make my way to the end of the first play, but time is running thin, and I realize that the second reading will be nowhere near as thorough. I begin skimming over the text, nodding off now and then, but jotting down the important tid-bits as I see them, act by act. "Lord Byron, you windbag, you."
9:00am - After a little reading and a lot of sleeping I have a general idea about what I'm going to write. I drink some very strong coffee and then allow myself an hour to work on each paper, since they were both due at 11:30am and I wanted to leave the house by 11.
11:30am - I'm done, but I'm late. I jog to the bus stop and wait there with an elderly woman and later, a guy about my age. He's fat, dirty, and looks like an asshole.
"I'm an asshole."
11:36am - The bus hums to a stop and Mr. Asshole decides he wants to hop aboard before the little old lady - who had been waiting there longer than either of us! The ground was icy and as he shouldered past her, he nearly caused her to lose her footing. I was already pissed that I was late at this point, so why not blow off some steam, I thought. After writing that post on pedestrian etiquette, I've been even more conscious of this sort of rude behavior.
I grabbed the fat fuck by the back of his jacket and tossed him back across the sidewalk and into the snowbank. Since he was so large and already up the stair of the bus, this was an easy maneuvre, because gravity did most of the work. The bus driver wasn't alarmed in the slightest, either. In fact, he looked pleased I had done something.
A picture of the fat asshole in the snowbank. ..
Okay, it's not him, but I had to add this.
"After you, ma'am," I said, gesturing for the woman to go ahead of me. At first she hesitated, a little alarmed at what had just happened, but then she gave me a smile and thanked me as we got on. I sat with her at the front, and gave fatass the most hateful look I could as he walked to the back of the bus in silence; visibly embarrassed, his clothing soaked with slush.
posted by Wino McHackenpuke at 4:08 PM
8 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Sorry about that other post, I understand why you deleted it. I was high on a cocktail of toxic substances when I wrote it. Who could have thought I could use the word "cornholed" so many times in one sentence?
Anyway, I enjoyed reading how you took care of that dangerous "bus asshole". You are doing the things I can only imagine - I wish I could see these events as they happen. I lust for the day when I can stop a ravaging asshole from hurting an old lady myself.
Then I would be a hero too.
Like you, McHackenpuke.
Hey... I caught you trolling on someone else's blog. I'm fond of that sort of self-promotion as well. I like the blog btw... I'll be around reading it.
Good blog!
I see by the other comments on this post that I was drawn here on the same pretext as other people. Clever. Nasty, but clever. I guess that means you break even. Keep up the good thoughts and excellent illumination thereof, but quit riling up the blasted blogosphere!
I knew I'd find you, Wino.
There is muscle beneath my fat. I'm coming for you. I'm goan KILL you! Goan KILL you!
Hi!
I'm sorry you did not understand my post. I'll make you a deal--I'll explain mine to you if you'd explain yours to me.
Wonderful account of procrastination... sounds exactly like something i would do! Except the whole bus incident... i would probably just yell at the guy or say some smart-ass comment. I have tried to push someone much larger than me and usually they barely even flinch, therefore my verbal skills will have to do the trick for the most part!
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