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.
It still clouds my everyday judgement, and lies in the back of my mind as I continue to struggle through each day’s tasks. Normally I ignore it, like I do all distractions, but something that someone asked me the other day has brought it back again into the limelight, now lit with a the intensity of a sun’s scorch.
“What do you want to do next time?”
Something that every young’un is asked during their schooling years, it seems. I’ve been asked this about a million times, hell, I’ve asked myself this ever since I got the desire to work with games, and every time the answer I came up with was “Everything”. Because everything matters.
Of this semester, that is. Not of life, that would be slightly more disconcerting (not to mention I probably wouldn’t even be writing this post then).
Surprisingly, this time, the workload has been slightly less strenuous, with me actually having spare time at the end of the semester to start idling around on Google Reader, trying to figure out what I should be doing instead of whiling my time away, much like everyone else is.
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.
