Magnificent Obsession

I so should be doing homework right now.

Which would be why I'm writing a blog post.

O Procrastination! Thou art the most vilest of diseases! How thy stingest my arse with thy sharp stinger thingy and maketh my head acheth as though afflicted with a plague of Egypt or a brown tequila hangover (and I should know)!

When procrastination is coupled with The Ice Storm of the Century and stirred with subjects (Microsoft Access/Atronomy) in which I do not automatically excel? Oh, woe is me. It's like homework has morphed into something like the plant in "Little Shop of Horrors". Only instead of people, I have to sustain it by tossing into its gaping maw a steady diet of paperwork, answered review questions, completed online tests, and thoughtfully composed article summaries so it doesn't KILL ME DEAD.

Worst of all? I've had to begin to come to terms with the fact that: (shhhh):

I might not make all A's this semester.

I know. It's totally embarassing.

I've no idea where or when the obsession with the perfect grade started. As a kid, my self-set mental goal was always nothing less than a B, but that's about the extent of it. When did I morph into the goob who's willing to do extra credit, for God's sake? How did I become this...this person who gets clammy at the thought of a B and downright dizzy at even the slightest whiff of a C? Who would have thunk I'd be the girl working desperately in the desserted library on Friday afternoon while everyone else is out preparing to get their freak on like The Lord intended?

I mean, seriously, as if, anyone is EVER going to face me across a desk and actually give a sh!t that I, at my age, with my polar-opposite skill-set, do not have a working grasp of The Doppler Shift or will ever want to know why, exactly, I whizzed when attempting to filter my query.

And anyway. I think a girl should be allowed to filter her query in private. Don't you? Most especially if she's wearing her doppler shift.