Ode to procrastination
I will be officially done with library school on Thursday. Glory hallelujah. In the meantime I have to finish my internship and write a paper about what I learned during the internship (not necessarily in that order) and sit through one last torturous evening of class, in which we will attempt to get through 13 student presentations in the time it took to finish barely 9 this week. I shudder at the thought.
I was one of the nine, and I'm happy to note that my presentation was exactly 10 minutes long (the official limit was 10-15, although some of my classmates interpreted that as 20-30). Leaving your notecards at your seat when you go up to speak makes for an even shorter talk. My presentation was inane anyway, so I don't think anyone missed the extra few quotes I meant to throw in. I'll omit my rant about professors who give helpful ideas for presentations -- in writing -- in the goddamn syllabus -- and then tell you that's not what they wanted at all. I will simply say that I no longer believe that my prof is M. Manette's long lost relative -- I now believe he's the spawn of Satan.
So where was I? Ah, yes -- procrastination. It's always served me well in the past. But when Evil Professor neglected to assign our midterm project and then decided that our final projects would just count for twice as much of our grades instead, I decided to get a jump on things and began gathering materials for my annotated bibliography and "public piece" about a month in advance. However, I also began the customary obsessing a month in advance as well, to the point where I was not sleeping or functioning beyond the most basic level, because that would have interfered with the obsessing.
My conclusion: Next time I find myself in an academic situation (and this episode has made seriously reconsider furthering my education beyond this point), I will leave everything until the absolute last minute. Because that's when I actually did the work anyway. And the previous 29 days or so would have been much more comfortable.
I was one of the nine, and I'm happy to note that my presentation was exactly 10 minutes long (the official limit was 10-15, although some of my classmates interpreted that as 20-30). Leaving your notecards at your seat when you go up to speak makes for an even shorter talk. My presentation was inane anyway, so I don't think anyone missed the extra few quotes I meant to throw in. I'll omit my rant about professors who give helpful ideas for presentations -- in writing -- in the goddamn syllabus -- and then tell you that's not what they wanted at all. I will simply say that I no longer believe that my prof is M. Manette's long lost relative -- I now believe he's the spawn of Satan.
So where was I? Ah, yes -- procrastination. It's always served me well in the past. But when Evil Professor neglected to assign our midterm project and then decided that our final projects would just count for twice as much of our grades instead, I decided to get a jump on things and began gathering materials for my annotated bibliography and "public piece" about a month in advance. However, I also began the customary obsessing a month in advance as well, to the point where I was not sleeping or functioning beyond the most basic level, because that would have interfered with the obsessing.
My conclusion: Next time I find myself in an academic situation (and this episode has made seriously reconsider furthering my education beyond this point), I will leave everything until the absolute last minute. Because that's when I actually did the work anyway. And the previous 29 days or so would have been much more comfortable.