Note to Self: Never Live Like That Again

Ok, so the last few weeks have been rather hellish.

Two weeks back, I could see everything was coming to a head. I had a 15 page research paper due that I had barely worked on at all (on the research level, not even starting the writing), and I had 52 papers to grade. I had planned to write the paper by Tuesday the 12th, then take the rest of the week to grade the papers.

Instead, I discovered that I could find episodes of Scrubs available online. So, in the time between Friday the 8th and Tuesday the 12th, I managed to watch all five seasons of the show. It was pretty sad, actually. Since each episode is only 22 minutes long, I would justify to myself that I could afford to watch one more. Then, as time ran on, I would say that I would get more work done if I only got to the end of a season. Well, it kinda worked. Once I had watched every episode of every season, I did feel like I could get more work done.

Unfortunately, by that time it was Wednesday evening, and I was just getting home from a Writing Center shift. So, in the hours between 11:00pm Wednesday and 1:30pm Thursday, I managed to write a 15 page paper, complete with research. The requirements consisted of 3 giant cans of Monster energy drink, a bag of pretzel rods, a half of a leftover pizza, and a cast-iron stomach that helped me fight the urge to constantly regurgitate the junk I was putting into it. Sorry, stomach. I promise to make amends with sweet purifying alcohol over break.

Following that, I had about 30 papers left to grade by the next day (Friday). Which I did, finishing the last one between discussion sections that afternoon. Again, Monster energy drinks, pretzel rods, and lack of sleep. My mood that Friday afternoon was best described as "jittery," or more accurately described as "bat-shit insane." But then came the office holiday party and sweet sweet alcohol, and even sweeter sleep.

All in all, that week I got about 12 hours of sleep between Tuesday and Friday, with no stretch longer than three hours. I also didn't eat an actual meal for about three days in there. All because I had to watch Scrubs. Blessedly, the addiction is passed, as I am caught up and the actual show is on opposite both Grey's Anatomy and Supernatural, so I can't even tape it. C'est la vie.

So the next week passed relatively benignly. I took my journalism final (done in 22 minutes), administered and graded my own students' finals, and discovered that I can also find episodes of Battlestar Galactica online, which I have now begun to watch in earnest. It's quite awesome, and I highly recommend it.

I now am home, having driven through fog and thunderstorm (seriously, a thunderstorm in Illinois on the first day of winter. What the hell?). I discovered moments ago that I passed both of my courses with flying colors, and thus I am forever finished with taking classes. EVER. NO MORE CLASSES. If I weren't so exhausted, I'd probably do a little dance. Next semester I can actually start work on my dissertation proposal, and live the sweet life that I've only dreamed about. (If it isn't in fact sweet, don't tell me. Let me have my dream a while longer.) And since I won't likely blog anymore before Christmas, some holiday shout-outs:

Madison People: You guys rock, and you kept me sane this semester, despite my clear hatred and contempt for the things I was doing. Those of you who will be there for New Year's Eve, we must do something completely insane. And actual insane, not grad school insane. Board games and wine do not count as insane.

Specifically amongst the Madison peeps (though mention here is not a slight against you):
T.: Thanks for the CDs. Made the drive so enjoyable, though I did nearly wreck my car I was laughing so hard at "6 to 8 Black Men." (For the rest of you, this is not racist. It involves mockery of the Dutch yuletide mythology.)
Officemates: Ours is the best office ever, even if you two are so smugly further in your dissertation process than I am (yes, I'm looking at you Red Headed Stepchild).
Puncher: Sorry no dumplings before I left. But you'll be there for New Year's, right?
Captain Americanist: I'm sad I'm no longer your TA. My new instructor might actually hold me accountable for things. And he damn sure won't let me intimidate the newbies like you did.
Hillbilly and CryptoJew: Sorry I won't be there to hear the fourth lesson of Advent with you. Though I looked ahead, and I believe that it's actually "Screw this patience thing. You have to go to mass again later tonight. Cause Jesus, he's a'coming."
TGD (I dislike your old nickname and need a new one): We must begin our drinking early next year, if I am to be in prime condition in April when I visit my:

New York Friends: That's right, I'm coming out there in early April, and staying a little under a week. We must get drunk and do crazy things. I won't rest until Quantum has actually either assaulted a celebrity or been arrested for rigging an election. Or both.

McJew: Stop the pretentious song posts. I hadn't heard of one of those damn songs. And if you think you've got it bad as a teacher, well, you do. Cause Michigan sucks. (I find alcohol and Scrubs viewings will help dull the pain of grading.)

Nittany Lion: I'm not certain, but I believe my friend Quantum left me a voicemail saying he got Joe Paterno so drunk he may die. You may want to check. And come back to Madison soon. I can't seem to win at poker while you're gone.

Sergio: Loved the Scrubs-related Charlie Brown Christmas link. Call me if you're home for the holiday.

Other Northwestern Friends: Do you know how I can get NU to stop asking me for money? I can't support them and my coke habit, now can I? Go Cats!

Random other folk who read this blog: Who are you? Why are you spying on me? Are you the people I see out in the shrubs every alternate Tuesday at 7:45pm? (Except for L.A. Girl. You're cool, even if you don't like Heroes. If you get a chance, punch Brett Ratner in the balls for me.)

The person from the UK who is viewing my blog for some reason: Happy Boxing Day.

I began this month's posts admitting what a sucker I am for Christmas and all it means, in an un-ironic way. So Merry Christmas to you all, even if I forgot to mention you here by name. I wish you nothing but the best for the holiday season, and I hope the new year finds you happy and prosperous, or at least content with your poverty (i.e. an academic or a drunk).