So I finished another semester. It WAS called Spring 2014. But, shit, I still have 3 semesters to go… that is, if I actually take 2 classes in one of the semesters coming up. Maybe, just maybe, I will do that.
I have been cramming and been feeling alarmed since Friday, May 9. I had 2 projects due May 13 at 11:59pm. Then a homework for a class discussion (in writing), where I was supposed to be the leader, was due Wednesday, May 13, at the same time. When it rains, it pours.
Things would have been “easier” (not that cramming was easy) if I had the weekend off. I did not. I worked both Saturday and Sunday. And even on the nights when I had time to do the projects, I DID NOT DO THEM. I don’t even recall what I did. I’m sure Facebook-ing was mostly part of it.
I had already promised Mariska not to procrastinate and do my projects last minute. She has this funny way of saying it: Do not dooo iiiittt the laaassst minuuuutteee.
She may have felt that I am quite useless at home (or even more useless) when I am zoned out like that.
Yet I did it, anyway. I worked on my project Monday morning. Thankfully, I took 2 vacation days this week, meaning, I only worked Sunday with 9 days to chill. However, I was delusional and thought I can actually finish all 3 papers in 1-2 days. Then pick up an OT either Tuesday or Wednesday. Ha! Delusional, in fact. Not happening.
Half an hour ago or so, I finally managed to submit the final paper that was due. I breathed a sigh of relief. Before even posting on facebook about how glad I am to have finished this semester, I took a quick peek at my submissions yesterday. One out 2 turned up with a grade of 99 out of a 100. And yes, that project was started on Monday, finished on Monday, submitted on Tuesday.
I can only be thankful that I got that grade. It is supposed to make up for big F mark I got from Project 2, which I confused with Project 3— which the instructor gave me the chance to fix… but I was in Boston to watch the marathon… then I was in Long Branch to pace a marathon… then I was in Bear Mountain to run an ultramarathon. In all, those were weeks the teacher gave me time to respond to her but did not… because I was busy with some marathons— running or not.
So yeah, less than an hour ago, I submitted the last paper. I hope none of it comes back with a comment or an advise for revision. I am so done with this semester. And oh, did I mention I almost totally F’d up this semester by totally forgetting to submit my application for tuition reimbursement? I submitted it one month past the deadline and literally just received today the approval and the accompanying “forgiveness” letter from the director of education at the hospital I work for. I would have been screwed if I had to pay for the full tuition this semester. I am already broke from running. Broke but happy. But broke from being in grad school, I may just shoot myself.
Funny thing about finishing a tough semester, though, cramming the way I crammed, is that once you are literally done submitting the last bit and piece of project or so last minute, you hit a high and then a low. You realize you have nothing to do because your life was so preoccupied by those intense moments when you were rushing and juggling between work, running/training, mothering, napping. Thankfully, being an other half of another half is not part of the juggling act. That would have been another reason to shoot myself.
So yes, you hit a low. And you ask yourself, what am I going to do with my spare time now? And back then, you almost thought you didn’t have any.
I was going to say this blog is not going to be about running.
But as I hit that low after the high, I find myself like in that situation after I finished my first marathon and all other long distance races I did: I reached a state of high, then I find myself asking “now what’s next?”
So I think this is why I cram. I love the intensity. It is mind-boggling why I repeatedly make the same mistake over the past years of being in grad school. Being the control-freak that I am with most things related to my destiny, school is one aspect that I’ve survived by winging things.
So this is why I procrastinate. Because in cramming, I somewhat find pain and torture. So much like finding pain and torture I when running. And in breaking the barriers and in pushing myself to the limits and in pushing past the pain, I seem to have that sense of fulfillment. Then follows my evil laugh. Then I say I survived. Then I say, I’ll never do it again. So much like when I say I’m not running the same race again.
I think I’m just sick in the head.