The closer it gets to the end of the semester, the more I’ve been blogging.
I’ve posted everyday for the past four days. Seems a little excessive considering that I presented my history senior seminar on Tuesday (which went rather well) and have papers sporadically due up until the last day of finals.
My motivation has been so lackluster lately that I was up until 5 am finishing a paper last night. I easily could have been finished with this paper by midnight or even 11 had I not been distracted for about five hours.
Two years ago, as the over achieving sophomore that I was, I would have been extremely embarrassed by my obvious lack of work ethic. Now? I’m too exhausted and way too over this semester to care. I’m tired of the projects I used to get excited about. At this point, I know I’m doing well enough in all of my classes that I really don’t feel the need to put in a whole bunch of extra effort.
It’s difficult to explain my thought process right now because I do care about my performance in school and I do really enjoy school. I want to do well and I love learning. However, it’s gotten to the point where I have too much to do and not enough time to do it. The joy of learning has been replaced by going through the motions of getting the assignment done in time for its due date; if that’s at three in the morning on that due date, so be it.
Freshman Britta, who religiously went to bed at 11:00, would cringe at this new (and hopefully very temporary) lifestyle. Even Junior Britta, who made a point to be in bed by 2:00 am, would probably cry a little bit at this new reality that I’m allowing myself to live in.
This is senior year, folks. It’s gotten the best of me. True, it’s more so my lack of motivation than anything else and I am entirely to blame. I’ll get through it…I only have one more week of classes and finals week!
In the meantime, my usually very introverted self has of late been overcome by some very out of character desires. I could really go for a few drinks at a fun bar with a dance floor right now. The dance floor is necessary. Despite my overall exhaustion, I have a lot of pent-up energy. I tell ya, the body does weird things under stress.
It's a Britta Bottle! 