I'd like to get off the rollercoaster that has been my life for the past while and spend a few days sleeping. Instead, I'm writing a paper for my Irish lit class on Brian Moore's The Luck of Ginger Coffey and it's boring me stupid. Too bad that's not sufficient justification for not writing the damned thing... I'm completely sick of writing papers. I can't even count how many I've done in the past four years, let alone how many pages, of which I've got about 50 more to go. Want graduate NOW. Bad school, no doughnut.

My paper writing process today has looked something like this:

1. Shower, grocery shop, do whatever possible to procrastinate.
2. Lunch! Lunch is an excellent way to procrastinate.
3. Check e-mail.
4. Re-read first two pages of paper. Make insignificant revisions.
5. Write another, slightly clearer version of the outline. Realize it's version 5 and I'm probably overdoing to whole outline clarity thing.
6. Put on water for tea.
7. Flip through relevant text to find examples and passages to illustrate first point.
8. Instead of finishing 7, make more unnecessary revisions. Re-word things that don't need it, then change them back to the way they were.
9. Write tedious blog post destined only to be read by those who are also procrastinating on something.
10. Theoretical step: finish post and get serious work done on paper. More likely step: have cigarette and pour tea.
11. Try step 10, the serious work part, all over again.

Repeat until crazy or paper is finished. Complain intermittently to invisible internet audience.