I have just realized I have surpassed a whole month writing on this blog. That’s longer than I thought I would last. As a result, I’ve decided to revisit my reasons for starting “Precarious Writer”. But still, I have a long way to go. As I said in my first post, I will not have succeeded in keeping a blog unless I’ve done it for more than six months. So we will see…
Did I say I was getting better? I lied. I’m still sick and I hate it. Oh well. At least my plane is booked now. Instead of freaking out about when I’m going back, I’m freaking out about having zero time to prepare and tie up loose ends. I haven’t finished my room! I haven’t met up with all my friends from high school! I haven’t pet my dog enough times! I’m still freaking sick!
I hate all this not having enough time for everything. I’m one of those people who prefers to take my time and do everything right the first time without increasing stress levels. How are you meant to enjoy what you’re doing when everything’s rushed? Travelling to England should always be a treat, no matter how many times I do it, or how much my ears hurt, or how heavy my luggage is. Right?
Okay. It’s late, I’m sick, and I don’t even remember how I started this post so here’s an ending before I (figuratively) pass out.
On my mom’s side, I have 20 aunts and uncles and 25 cousins, three of which have spouses and one who has a toddler and a baby due any day now. Including my siblings and I, my maternal grandparents have 28 grandchildren and nearly 2 great-grandchildren. I am the youngest of the older half of the grandchildren, and for six years before 2011, I was smack dab in the middle.
On Christmas there’s a big party at my grandparents’ house. After dinner, presents—usually between close cousins, or godparents and godchildren—are given out. Then the older half, plus the oldest of the younger half, of the cousins do our secret santa exchange and get to discover who had our name and so on. After we’re done, the adults (I guess, at twenty, I’m technically an adult, but here “adult” means family members out of university who have jobs and own homes and stuff) play their gift-giving game where they draw numbers and the whole thing is kind of complicated.
After the adults have finished their game, the dining table is cleared and the poker game begins.
I was going to write what was supposed to be my first Arts+Crafts post, but I’ve never painted a mug before today and I kind of messed up. You’ll have to settle for a picture of a dollar-store mug I drew on with a multi-surface paint pen. It was much easier than painting with acrylics. It looks good with my mini pink Christmas tree, doesn’t it? Nice contrast. Anyway, that’s it for this post. It’s actually forty-seven minutes past midnight so I guess that makes this post officially late. I apologize. Since tomorrow is Christmas Eve and the day after is Christmas, I might be too busy to post. If I have the time, then I’ll definitely put something up, but I’m telling you just in case. Hopefully, you’ll be too busy to notice if I do or not.
Don’t. Just stay home and drink hot chocolate happily knowing you ordered everything online a month ago. Otherwise you’ll end up with less than a week until Christmas and less than half your list checked off, like me. And you’ll be cursing your own stupidity as you navigate a crowded mall and wait in crazy mile-long lines because this could all have been avoided.
Sundays are ‘Anything Goes’ days. If I’ve got something to write, I will. If I need a break, I’ll take it. If I just want to post a bunch of pictures or a YouTube video, I will. Today, I will write a good old-fashioned post.
I’m not entirely sure how some of my friendships form. First we just sort of know each other. Then it gets to the point where we see each other on a path, each make a face at the other, stop right in front of each other, one of us pats the other on the head with a binder as they say, “Boop!” and then we continue on our way, calling “‘Morning!” over our shoulders. Between that and first finding out their name, I have no idea what happens that somehow gets us from point A to point B.
I’m feeling a little bit homesick today. Actually, it might be homesickness and a mix of just wanting to be done with all this work. I don’t get homesick very often. I went my entire first year without being homesick, but I guess it was bound to happen eventually. And it’s better for it to happen five days before I leave than a month or two ago, right? There are three things I especially miss: My little brother, my dog, and my room. I mean, my room here is nice and all–I even decorated it for Christmas!–but my room back home is still unfinished since moving in over the summer and there’s so much I want to change! My dog is basically a big furry teddy bear that licks your face and poops but is always happy to see you no matter what. Who wouldn’t miss that? My brother…I don’t know. I just miss him. He’s ten and he likes Ninja Turtles.
Anyway, I should get back to working on this Research Portfolio thing. I’m still not done and it’s due tomorrow. So much for getting a head start. The thing is, I’ve never actually done anything quite like this before. Compiling research into a plan for a story I haven’t written yet is so far out of my comfort zone I might as well be in the middle of the Pacific. I was told I could cover everything in point form but I also have to make it engaging. How do I make point-form engaging? Is it even possible? I suppose I’ll find out soon enough. Tomorrow this will all be over…except for my film script. That one’s due Friday.
Hooray for IT guys! (I’m not being sexist–the guys in IT were, well, guys.)
In terms of my assignments, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed at the moment. I always have a day like this when I don’t know what to do or how to start, although it usually comes along a lot closer to the deadlines. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, then?
To get over this sense of dread and inevitable failure, I’ll do what I walkways do: eat candy and watch funny internet videos. Oh, and I’ll break down my work into manageable chunks and work little-by-little (she typed as she remembered that her dad reads this blog).
Now let me tell you about the Alarm Clock Fiasco: