Like a mouse cowering in the brush as the hawk’s shadow passes over, I am frozen, quivering, and helpless as finals loom above. Unlike the mouse, I am distracting myself from the impending gutting by mining the web for blog after blog after blog.
Now that I think about it, given the highly mediated nature of the experience, who am I to say that mice aret writing blogs as well as reading? Welcome to Macbebekin, mice! Comments are open!
But I digress.
You know how it is (or why on earth are you here?). The heavier my work load grows, the more I tinker around the web. A few weeks ago, this was no problem, because I had all my tasks so well in hand. Sad to say, today I have very nearly the same amount of work to do, and much less time to do it. It was a combo pack that put me over the edge: working my way through the archives at Izzle Pfaff and the Bad Baby Names at Not Without My Handbag. Cannot. Break. Free.
This calls for drastic measures. As of last night, I have put myself on BlogFast. I am cut off from my usual weblogs until I write my last paper and create working study guides, or until 1:45 p.m. on May 13th, when my last exam ends, whichever comes first. This has the desirable secondary effect of forcing me to examine my weblog reading habits, although that might be a rock I’d rather not turn over.
I’m surprised by the difficulty I anticipate. So many people I’ve never met provide a bright spot in my day, and I am genuinely expecting to miss all you tiny people who live inside my computer, especially Jane, Clotilde, Mimi, and Ladygoat.
I am still allowed to post entries here, as the arbitrary rules are currently defined by the lunatic woman in charge of me, but you can expect my postings to be as unreliable, panicky, and rambling as the ravings of an ether addict. So, business as usual.