Well folks...

My life is pretty boring right now.  I wrote an interesting research paper titled "Glossolalia in Pentecostalism Through the Eyes of Weber, Marx, and Mead: A Diachronic Analysis" (there's a mouthful for you - aren't you glad you don't have to trade places with me... it's basically the long way of saying that I analyzed how speaking in tongues has evolved and changed in the Pentecostal church from the perspective of some old dead guys who called themselves sociologists... I should have put THAT on my title page/in my thesis).  I wrote another paper... and another paper... and another paper (that was just last week).  I wrote another paper this afternoon.  And now I need to write another paper.  And another and another.  Before Friday.  But before I write another paper, I would like to procrastinate for just one more minute to tell you that I'm tired of writing.  And I'm tired of pretending that I like writing.  But like or un-like, I am a machine and I can gitter done.  So I will.  I will gitter done in the next one hour and twenty-six minutes, because at 10pm sharp, I intend to be where I am every weeknight at 10pm.  Taking a break with a bowl of mixed berries (and potentially Balkan yoghurt and honey mixed in too... try it sometime).  Congratulate me, folks!  I am now a person who takes breaks even when I don't have time to take breaks.  I watch movies, hang out with people, and sleep 8 hours at night even when school is breathing down my neck.  I (usually) do all things in moderation.  Except drink tea - which I still do in excess.  And the qualifier *usually* allows me to continue being a huge hypocrite at times while still feeling good about all the progress I've made.  I have never been so behind... I have never been appeared so un-stressed.  I have never been so afraid that the pressure will get to me and I'll crack like a rotten Easter egg.  But we all have limits, don't we?  And I've decided that one of my boundaries reads like this: "I will have a life outside of _____________ (work, school, etc.)".  And I will post again when the world turns right-side up again, when the sky stops falling a la Chicken Little, and when I stop running writing around in circles like a chicken with my head cut off.  Two weeks?  Two weeks...ish.  Unless you want me to start posting my papers as blogposts, which would be pretty lame.  Two-ish weeks.  I like qualifiers... -ish is a good qualifier.