I am still shockingly unmotivated to do any work whatsoever. Today was a bit of a write-off considering I was out drinking last night; I tend to allow myself to be a vegetable the day after regardless of hangover state. (I'm finding I'm becoming impervious to hangovers. So hangovers can suck it) That very same essay that I had hoped to finish over the weekend still hangs over my shoulders, but I did manage to write five (albeit unpolished) pages yesterday, so I guess that does account for progress. I'm left with penning a conclusion which are always the worst as well as editing the entire draft as a whole, and while it isn't the greatest undertaking in the world, I've always been one to hate leaving things to the last minute when I have the agency and means to totally finish it at any time. And so that's me today: instead of taking two or three or four focused hours to knock out a more finalized copy, I instead spent my day searching tirelessly for last night's Saturday Night Live episode before becoming furious that nbc.com doesn't let Canadians view their videos, playing two (maybe three..) hours of the Sims 3, watching Scary Movie and laughing at 1. the incredible similarity to Scream (I know it's a direct spoof but I'm referring to even shot compositions) which I now pick up on since Scream is one of my favourite movies and 2. all of the jokes considering I first watched it as a stupider child version of myself, finally discovering Saturday Night Live and weeping in disappointment at how unfunny the show was (however Kristen Wiig can do no wrong), cooking, returning to another two (three..) hours of the Sims 3, and finally getting exponentially frustrated at a jigsaw puzzle because as far as I'm concerned jigsaw puzzles are Satan. How's that for a sentence. I also needed to study for a test I have in the morning at 11, but that studying consisted of me looking at my notes for maybe fifteen minutes as I deemed that sufficient. It usually is, and I usually still get high marks, but I can't shake the guilt monster hanging over my head nagging me to study more. Not that said monster has a chance to speak: in my one moment of actually doing nothing (the real nothing not the Sims Scary Movie lying in bed eating nothing) I've been beckoned to rewatch the second episode of American Horror Story which I really cannot say no to since I'm actually obsessed with it. The writing shall resume in an hour. (not that that will affect you.. a draft is a draft. Never mind me)
Aaaand the show is still as messed up as ever.
The past week had a good amount of birthday shenanigans as three of my friends had birthdays - two were celebrated last weekend as previously outlined. So again another happy 21st to Kelsey and a happy 20th to Devan who has now defeated teen pregnancy. Then on Friday came my roommate Steph's birthday, and I'm sure she appreciated her birthday gift, Jane Eyre on DVD starring some girl and Michael Fassbender who I will 100% admit to saying is my man-crush (the dude is Magneto), which was hidden in the toaster. Last night her and I ventured out to hit up a few hotspots downtown, the first of which was a rather upscale restaurant-lounge where we haunted the bar and got progressively more intoxicated (and I spent so much money..) while the live band played Top 40 hits like Just Dance (awesome), and the second of which was an Irish pub where we went with Steph's brother, cousin and cousin's girlfriend, which also added to the speeding train of inebriation. As I said before I've become immune to hangovers so my morning was peachy, although I can't say the same for my roommate. The real party should come on Friday night where we're having the more "traditional" birthday party with our friends coming for the night, and that, too, should be a mess. Aside from that my driving force to life is next weekend where I'll be traveling to a house filled with exceptional people for the infamous Grey's Anatomy Halloween party; I've been promised cuddles and hardcore drinking so I expect nothing less as I don my best Dempsey.
My Drunk Failure
In a similar sense, I decided to be an idiot in two ways last night upon returning from the bar. One, I decided that I'm a daring cook, and I proceeded to burn my finger quite badly amidst my culinary mishap; the food was good, though, because I didn't exactly notice my finger hurting until I was finished eating, to which I was suddenly bombarded with throbbing pain and misfortune. Two, I wrote another My Drunk Blog post, but until hell freezes over, I'm just gonna hang onto that one unpublished. Why? you say. Not that my spelling or structure was atrocious - quite the opposite, considering as I scan it now there aren't many spelling mistakes popping out at me - but rather because the subject that I chose to talk about (since, recall, I decided I would hone in on a particular topic) was love. I guess the idea was at the forefront of my mind due to it being a recurring theme popping up in the conversations I've had with various friends lately at various levels of intoxication. Perhaps I'll bestow you with some gems (including but not limited to excerpts involving my embarrassing subject):
- "I can hear my wallet weeping from my dresser. Hush hush, my dear wallet, we shall survive."
- "I'm in pain and wish to melt into a puddle of slumber."
- "I do not wake up every morning and pine for some Juliet on a balcony lamenting that I cannot breathe without her. I can survive single."
- I never succeeded in spelling "girlfriend" correctly. We have girlfriedn, girlfirend, and my favourite, girlrilfriend.
- "This is a tangent. Deal with it."
I'm feeling a little dry on subject matter, only two subtitles tonight - I guess that only furthers the idea I'm doing this just so that I don't have to study or write or edit and that maybe when I publish this my eyes will be too heavy and I'll just call it a day.