Time =/= Money?

I’m absolutely abysmal at time management. Now by that I don’t necessarily mean that if you hand me a couple of things to do in a given time period, I won’t be able to do it – cause I will if I care enough. I’m talking about personal time management; setting time aside for myself, for my own interests. Managing my time on a broader scale.

The last time I read any fiction (and I’m including short stories here) was in the summer (Life of Pi, just in case anyone is/was curious). Over the past two or three months I’ve done nothing but read through my course readings, play modern warfare 2/left 4 dead 2, and listen to music.

Once upon a time I was actually interested in non-mainstream film. Without wanting to sound pretentious, I simply mean films that were more than popcorn fodder. Now? I only watch popcorn fodder, and that too mostly as a ‘break’. A break from what? Fuck knows. Every week I promise myself that I’ll sit down and record/write some music, yet when the weekend comes I either sleep away or just browse whatever shit I can instead of picking up my guitar, dialling in some gorgeous reverb and delay patterns and creating ambient bliss. Or hoping to create some.

Maybe it’s the pressure of applications and of trying to get a first. My mind gets incredibly overwraught in such instances, completely destroying any calm I might have. But I’m done with applications (well, except for Fulbright – for fucks sake. I have to start working on that app too).

Anyway, what I meant to say was that I haven’t been able to conjure up enough time or patience to sit down and write – whether it’s music or crap poetry or even a full fledged emo/angsty/pseudo-intellectual political blog post. Everytime I have an idea and get excited for a fair few seconds, I end up shoving it aside and just staring at a wall instead. It’s a really weird limbo where I have the mental drive to do stuff (i.e. I want to write and all, and worry about not writing), yet when push comes to shove I take up the fetal position, stick my thumb in my mouth and continue to worry/dream about writing as opposed to actually fucking doing it.


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