The Susanne

You know that feel­ing when you’ve just com­pleted a big task, met a dead­line or even finally done that spring clean­ing you’ve been mean­ing to for months, and all of a sudden you have all this spare time on your hands. I don’t really under­stand where all that extra time is coming from — there are no more hours in the day and the number of lec­tures hasn’t changed and it still takes forever to boil that egg for break­fast. But still — some­thing has changed. I think it must be the need to pro­cras­tin­ate — it’s sud­denly gone. What this does to me, is I make a mental list of all the useful things I can finally get to such as catch up on my read­ing, do research for my master thesis (trying to come up with one is the hard­est part! I swear), go to the gym and get a head start on the layout for the next issue of Filo­lo­gen. Then, of course, I end up doing just a tiny little bit of each. Which is com­pletely use­less and almost as bad as wast­ing the whole day watch­ing House. (By the way, I used to think House was a cool tv series, until I dis­covered that Hugh Laurie is a comedian chum of Stephen Fry’s, at which point the whole series rose to unex­pec­ted great­ness in my estimation.)

So today I’ve read a couple of pages from about ten dif­fer­ent art­icles on lit­er­ary theory, two chapters about Nor­we­gian writes in the early-to-mid-1900s, and about thirty pages of A Proper Mar­riage by Doris Less­ing(which left me racked with guilt for wast­ing time on some­thing so frivol­ous and not useful). I’ve played around with InDes­ign for a while, and I’ve been put­ting off that trip to the gym all day telling myself I’ll go tonight or per­haps tomor­row morn­ing will be better. I am obvi­ously com­pletely use­less when it comes to man­aging my time.

At least I’ve not done any­thing ridicu­lous such as spend­ing my whole day watch­ing epis­ode after epis­ode of a silly tv series.

Also am com­pletely hooked on the song You’re The Top by Cole Porter. It makes me feel Top! but it means I must remem­ber to keep the door to my room closed so my flat­mate doesn’t have a stroke…

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