Monday, March 22, 2010

What is it?

What is it about writing a 10 page paper that is just so hard for me? Geez. I wrote extra on my high school term paper because I was a geek who enjoyed writing.

I actually know what it is, I'm just not sure how it happened. How did I go from this brainy kid who cried over B's to this content adult who has the attention span of a fly? (Do flies have short attention spans? Hmm, let's use the theory proposed in the last post, and pretend like they do. It's not just short, it's actually on 4 seconds, which is exactly where I am. How'd you like that?)

Or, tell me, why is it that I can write millions of blogs and stay on task with them for hours, but I can't finish these last four pages?! It's not that hard, no citations. It's not even not that hard, it's totally not hard at all. Standard English. No APA. I JUST can't do it.

I'm really glad none of my blog friends have posted anything today because then I would be in massive trouble, because I also have no issue reading blogs or books or anything for hours, I just can't write this freaking paper.

It could be my desk and chair being morbidly uncomfortable. I was thinking yesterday that I wanted an exercise ball for a desk chair, because that would make me sit up more, but today...Today I realize that I wouldn't be able to put my feet on my desk like the boys who work around me if I were sitting on an exercise ball. (Of course, I only do it when they aren't in here, I am a lady afterall.)

Or, it really and truly could be the blind on the window behind me that is banging with the breeze that's blowing in the closed window. Yeah, it's blowing that hard outside. Eh, that's the plains for ya.

Maybe, it's my lack of commitment. Since my graduation date was shoved back a whole year, it most definitely could be that. Did I tell ya'll about that? I can't remember, short attention span remember.

It could also be the janitor who keeps coming in on his cell phone yacking to his daughter about bringing her a soda. Really, really? A soda. Is that a necessary conversation to have while in my office.

I mean, I'm the only one left on the premises I'm sure. Go talk to your daughter in someone else's office. Better yet, just stay out of mine because you like to talk waay to much, and I have a paper to write.


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