By rlubitz
Remember a few weeks ago when I had this sort of plan where I was going to gradually do every assignment so I wouldn’t be crushed under five essays due in two weeks?
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
ABOUT THAT
So that didn’t happen. Nor did I ever really think it would. It was a horrible idea not to but life is life and the internet exists along with entire seasons of Louie. I’ve gone days without sleeping not because of essays but because of life and the internet.
I’ve procrastinated everything and I want to die.
My remedy is to just TRY to manage my time so I don’t want to die COMPLETELY.
I have an essay due in three days (haven’t started it yet) and then I have four due. Even though I would rather do physical labor like tend a field or herd sheep or sew a quilt instead of writing these papers what I have on the other side of these essays is an amazing trip.
My only motivation is that I don’t want to go to these concerts or go out period thinking of the 18th century slave essay I have due in 3 days. Even though that is literally what I am doing at this exact moment. I’d like to watch Louie continuously without thinking of the state of the 19th century British working class.
So my “plan” for the next few weeks is work until I want to cry and then actually cry and then eat a pizza in celebration of finishing with a chocolate crepe and repeat. I’ve had worse two week periods in my life but it’s the fact that I have so much to look forward to that will keep me going.
What I can say about academics at UCL is that it doesn’t mess. I thought the teachers would hand out essays to do but then they would say, “but if you are studying abroad literally don’t worry about anything. I got you.” That didn’t happen.
I’m being judged academically with kids with BRITISH ACCENTS who sound approximately 346% smarter than anything I have ever said. They could make talking about the season finale of Keeping Up With the Kardashians Shakespearian.
I know they are far superior to me because they are and they can wear massive amounts of eyeliner without looking just hungover and they can pull off sweatervests without looking completely social inadequate. They’re better than me. They just are.
All I’m asking my teachers for is the sweet number 43, a number that means I passed and that I can move on to the next 45 essays to write in my life.
Advice for anyone doing this same program in the future: Do the exact opposite of everything I did.
Actually work on essays early and get them done so you’re not weeping until the end. Your life will suck for one night but then the next day you can enjoy London while you can. If you get papers done early you don’t have to watch the new episode of American Horror Story with English medieval architecture in the back of your mind and that is something worth working for.
So in the meantime, you’ll find me in the library drinking coffee that doesn't work and looking out into the cold outside wishing it was warmer and not damp and that I could exist on the outside but maybe one day I can. *weeps*