long time, no post

Gentle readers,

If any of you are out there, I bid you a warm and hearty "welcome back." Several months ago I mentioned that this blog was intended to keep my writing skills honed. A lot of good that did, I might add. I just finished the first of three final papers yesterday (about 30 minutes before it was due), and while the finished product is not something I'm remotely proud of, I learned a few things about myself in the process:

• I'm a procrastinating idiot
• My family really loves me
• I would crack easily under torture

While I felt as if I were the fucking stupidest graduate student on the face of the earth for putting off paper-writing (the hangover I contracted after a family gathering this weekend certainly did not expedite the writing process) I had the somewhat comforting realization that I am by no means alone. And for that, I am grateful, although I have resolved to do better in the future (as well as to learn to say "when" at certain family gatherings). This paper was particularly anxiety-producing because the professor had clearly indicated on the class syllabus that no late papers would graded. I found out after turning it in that this wasn't actually true. Too late, because I had already endured several days of interrupted eating habits and shifting, sleepless nights, anticipating my academic demise.

Through all of my irrational intolerable-ness, JD took a day off of work to ensure that I was adequately fed, hydrated, and supplied with frequent hugs and sufficient moral support. My parents and sister called frequently, leaving enthusiastic voice mails and words of encouragement, as well as assurances that they were seeking divine intervention on my behalf. I realize that I was not dying, but merely writing to a deadline, so all these gestures are magnified in my estimation. I can only hope that I shall extend that grace to others who are much worse off than I.

Okay, but it felt like I was dying. I had the sad realization that by overindulging, I had turned my body into a toxic wasteland, interrupting nearly every normal bodily function and deeply impairing my critical thinking skills. Psycho-somatic wholeness loomed large and the mind-body problem was a felt reality. I don't think we're reducible to our physical structures, but I'm pretty sure that we can't do any substantial transcendent thinking without their proper functioning, at least in this life. Additionally, I was probably subconsciously willing my body into true illness so that I might have a "legitimate" excuse to turn in a late paper.

I also realized that the kind of thinking one must do to write a paper is legitimately hard work, and like other muscles of the body, once physical exhaustion is reached, there's just no stringing two sentences together. These mental blocks led to many bouts of senseless sobbing and frustration, coupled with the desire that sleep would refresh my capacities, but too worried about wasting time sleeping to actually relax. While I am pretty good at handling certain kinds of physical pain, like more violent forms of hair removal, I cannot handle sleep deprivation. Perhaps, you too have experienced its effects: moments of perfectly clear alertness when time seems to stand still, alternated with wooziness imbuing the mundane with a confused humorousness characteristic of smoking marijuana, along with the attendent visual disturbances. I don't want to go there again. I hereby repent of my drunkenness and sloth and resolve to turn and do better, living a life of moderation, respecting the limits of my body and the finitude of my life. I just hope that, should I ever be tortured, the perpetrators will pull out my fingernails and let me sleep.