Cathartism…(is that a word?)

I find myself here, at 2:15 in the morning, the night before classes begin, already putting shit off. I may in fact be the world’s greatest procrastinator (although I have some cousins that are fighting me for the title.)  I have 2 Adobe documents pulled up on my computer RIGHT behind this screen. What are they you ask? One is a list of Whitman poems, another a list of Dickinson. I have to read all of these by tomorrow…I’ve read a few. But, to be honest, I was never one for poetry.

*Gasp* I’m a lit major. HOW on EARTH could I not be into poetry? It’s simple really, high school killed it for me.  Being forced to write poems about sweaty basketball shoes and winning things does not come easily to one so completely accident prone as myself.

Sure, give me a song to sing and I’ll learn it in 2 days (in another language, no less), but give me a deadline on creating something for myself, and I just cannot do it.

It’s the same thing with any reading, really.  The book can be fantastic, but if I have a deadline to read something by (especially when I have 3 other books to read in that time frame), I will put it off until I have no time left.  Especially if there aren’t any tests on it.  Give me something to actually study for, and I’m gold.

Alas, mommy and daddy (and siblings 1-5, for that matter), are going to have to be a post for another day. I have poems to read…or twi-fic…whatever….



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