It begins.
My final transition out of being a sophomore and becoming a junior, anyway. Not becoming a real artiste; that’s probably going to require a little more than just the passage of time.
The three weeks of break that I’ve had were, I admit, not particularly spent in the most productive fashion. For the first time in my life, I’d been a little jaded by the sheer gravity of my own work, and had no choice but to succumb to the mental degradation that it incurred upon my soul.
In other words, I slept a lot.
Is traditionally a time period in which students try to enjoy themselves as much as possible, in preparation for the second half of their spring semester at school. For me, it’s seems to be merely an extension of my current life, even if only 2 days of it have transpired so far.
I’ve been keeping myself busy working on my midterm assignment, which consists of drawing…well, there’s no other way to put it. Hands, and feet. Of humans, not fantasy creatures. And judging from what my assignments in other classes are, you can probably tell why I’m feeling a little winded (Not even taking into account, of course, that I try to follow Mr. Loomis’ adage of drawing a hand a day).
This semester has certainly wasted no time in dumping on the assignments. Strangely, while the workload is definitely less, I find myself much more stressed than usual. Perhaps it’s been my recent re-discovery of the concept of procrastination, that wonderful indulgence which, much like smoking, leaves you gasping for breath, utterly exhausted, after having experienced its throes.
Some would probably disagree and say that’s sex. Anyway.
Was supposed to be preceded by a bell. Something. Certainly not just several inches of snow and mush, blistering cold, and a general feel of gloominess settling over the Redmond landscape.
Holidays always flew by whenever I was in an educational institution of some sort, and my most recent winter break has been no exception. Already, the three weeks of salvation (of which one week could have been considered less so, as my mom was living with me) have been depleted, as it were, and the mad rush of drawing deus ex has, once again, risen from the churning depths of despair.
I’d be lying if I said I was prepared.
Usually refers to the phrase in which the word “up” or “down” is appended at the very end.
In my case, it refers to thumbnails. Lots and lots of them.
I’ve been here now for about two months? Three? Things are slowly but surely settling down, with me (more or less) working out a routine of sorts for my never-ending assignments, my apartment maintenance, and my regular re-assurances to my parents that I am eating/living fine.
It’s been gratifying to make the middle of the semester without handing in any assignment late thus far, I suppose: I am actually rather relieved that the mid-term so-called “exams” were nothing more than glorified quizzes of sorts, in that they were probably designed for people coming out of Primary 6 rather than the goddamn Army: it meant that, although I spent a grand total of absolutely no time at all studying for them, I managed to come out with some rather impressive scores (in my opinion).
In any rate, far better than some other students who love to talk in class, love to ask the tutors questions, and still hand in assignments late.
