In David's words, as written upon my facebook wall, it is the Devil's own hour. I'm not exactly sure what that means but it fills me with a feeling of hopeless abandon and dread. I don't plan to sleep tonight. I didn't sleep much last night. I don't know when sleep became an option rather than a requirement, but I'm rather put-off by its demotion to such a status. I love to sleep. I do so every chance I get irregardless of location. (yes I intentionally used that word widely regarded as a heinous abomination to the English language. It is after 3 am after all)
My objective tonight is to finish a paper on the Nuyorican Poets Cafe and Nuyorican Poetry in general as well as write a 4 page personal statement intended for a graduate school admissions board. These are interesting subjects to be sure, but I'll be glad when this is all over and I can sleep. Which sleep will allow me to dream the sweet dreams of a man unburdened of scholastic care. Were it not for Powerade and Cheetos I'd be a lost cause right now.
Sometimes I try to envision myself in the future looking back on these sleepless nights. I can't help but to think I'll look back on them fondly as a formative part of my past. Perhaps I'll look back at them and laugh at my folly for being such a prodigious procrastinator.
My late-night counterpart Jordan just gave up and went to bed, intent on awakening early to finish up the last of his paper. I'm just going to power on through and finish up as best I can.
Woot.
You will not look back on the late nights with fondness. I promise. You will just be very happy it is over. Turn on a little Mormon Rap, that will wake you up.
ReplyDeleteMaybe part of the reason you got no sleep was because you were blogging instead of writing your papers. Just a thought.
ReplyDeletep.s. Just because a word exists in a dictionary doesn't mean it should be used. To quote the definitive style guide (you know what I'm talking about): "there is many a word in Webster’s best used only by poets or toddlers." I believe irregardless falls in this category.
ReplyDelete@ Mauri - that was a ginormous explanation. :)
ReplyDeleteCorrect English is the slang of prigs who write history and essays. ~George Eliot
ReplyDeleteAlso, I have it on high authority that Messrs. Strunk and White get together every second Tuesday of the month to bowl with the Great Satan hisself. You know the one: he's red and scaly with a bifurcated tail and he carries a hay fork.
God is a God of order, and that includes the order (and rules) of language. As much as I love George Eliot, I think that's a higher authority. Besides, no one really cares what Strunk and White say these days. Most think them and their manual quaint novelties of the past. But if you ever want to see the illustrated version of that manual, I'd be happy to lend you my copy. :)
ReplyDeleteI have found sleep to be an unfaithful lover. Rarely does she lie with me and only ever wants to be seen with me in public. So I sympathize.
ReplyDelete