Bonjour à Minuit
It's 12:21, just after midnight. The cat has just pushed through the doorway and is letting all the heat out, silly pretty thing. She'll curl up on my duvet, warmed by the electric blanket below... Ah, how I wish I could snuggle up in all that gorgeous, comfortable softness. But no: I have procrastinated, and now I've an assignment to finish.I missed this. It might be a little odd, but the classes I most enjoyed were the ones that drove me to pull all-nighters, just to get work finished. I'm thinking of History, with a teacher who would embarrass you in front of the class: a very kind man, but not a patient one when it came to homework. Now, at uni, it's much worse. No talking-to, no negotiation. I can't look studious and abashed and ask for a day's extension - now, I need to maim myself. Rather seriously.
But then, there must be a reason why I always end up doing this. There's procrastination, of course, but that's the symptom: the root cause, I think, is that I enjoy the pressure. I like challenging myself, I like having a goal. I have fond memories of being hunched over the kitchen table at quarter past two in the morning, colouring pencils in hand, putting the finishing touches to a Social Studies cover page. I must have been thirteen, and I can still see Mum's exasperation - but that cover page was wonderful. I was very proud. It's happened quite a few times since. Essays, in particular... Oh, the essays. Mary McDonald. King James I. The Aeneid. Add every speech I ever did at high school: The Sight, Phar Lap, Amnesty International, Hamlet. Countless English exercises. Two magazines, one in History each year. One of those I'm sure I was still sticking together at my seat in class the next day. Ah, and Biology assignments: my poster on... What was it? DNA? The crab experiment, as well.
This is very stupid, I her you say. It is. It won't work for uni, either: even I'm not silly enough to think I can get a degree with work done at the last moment.
That said, there's something wonderful about sitting before a half-filled screen in the early hours of the morning, delving deep into the transient quality of thought as it relates to different forms of media, or the political successes of English monarchs between 1558 and 1640. It's especially good when you've just discovered the French version of your favourite Disney movie, and are listening to the prologue of La Belle et la Bête.
Wonderful.
[ Side note: la bête est féminin ? Toujours 'une' bête ? C'est étrange. I wonder what the etymology is there... ]
posted by Anonymous @ 12:20 AM
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