Ho-hum

So, Nanowrimo ended up dead in the water at day 15, but I've made my peace with that. Still, 4500 words of output in a month is pretty good for me, especially considering none of it had to be MLA formatted.

In two weeks, I will be done my undergrad (assuming my advisers back in Montreal figure out how to do their jobs sometime in the next month). While I CANNOT WAIT to be done with in-text citations and reading journals and the like, a part of me wonders if I will ever have the self-discipline to just sit down and write without the constant threat of looming deadlines. I'm worried that if nobody is holding Chekov's gun to my head, I won't think about books and poems and stories and art the way I do when I'm in school.

I'd like to think that having a whole shit-ton of spare time while I'm looking for my first "real" job will motivate me to work on my novel (which I've theorized the shit out of but haven't touched since August). I'd like to think that I'd put that spare time to good use, even if its not through writing.

But sometimes I think I give myself too much credit.

Facing graduation (fingers crossed) and unemployment begining next month, I have been confronted with how difficult life will be for me if I do try to make it as a novelist, or a freelance writer, or a finger snapping, poetry reading artiste. My head is stuffed full of all these romantic ideas about being a writer, and while I've always known they weren't realistic, I've never had to confront that disparity until now.

There are some things about being a student that I like: making my own schedule, working independently but with a lot of guidance, an excuse to be obsessed by old dead white men. I like being surrounded by people who are eager to learn and excited about art and who still think they really can change the world with theatre.

Well, maybe not that last one.

I'd like to think that I don't have to give those things up just because I wont be on a campus five days a week anymore, but I'm really not sure if I'm just trying to reassure myself.

Multi-tasking

When I attempt to do too many things at once, it usually results in my doing all of them very poorly. I think this month is an excellent example!

Not only am I supposed to be like, you know, finishing my last semester as an undergrad and reveling in the glory that is heavily subsidized post-secondary education in a welfare state, but I also have a part time job. I spend more time thinking of ways to get out of my shifts that I actually do working each week, so this in turn eats up a big part of my already meager spare time.

This being November of all months, I've also committed myself (loudly, publicly) to finishing my 50,000 words for NaNoWriMo by the end of the month. Throw in the usual family commitments, boyfriend time and freaking out about my future, and you've got an all-time high of multi-tasking for me.

End result? I'm already 6,000 words behind, I've got a pile of readings and assignments clogging up my desk, I still don't know how to conjugate Italian verbs, and I'm neglecting my social obligations. Somehow, I've managed to convince my superiors that I am "Team Captain" material, though I haven't been bothered yet to figure out what that means (or if it comes with a pay-raise).

But at least now I don't have to feel bad about neglecting my blog, too.