Procrastination Deactivation

This semester has started pretty much like every other semester before this one: I'm just not that into it.

My classes are all very interesting - even fascinating. In class, I enjoy the discussions. I take notes and jot down the names of books and people and events that I want to look up. Things I should find out about. Facts and figures that could be useful to me in the course.

But outside of class I really don't care. I'd much rather read a book or watch a movie and work on my knitting.

The difference between this semester and the others, though, is the effect of this disinterest. In past years, I procrastinated, avoided homework, and just tried to wait until I got back in the swing of the things.

This time, it's the opposite.

I have been so on top of my homework that I constantly have free nights. I'm usually done by 9 at the latest, leaving me plenty of time for movies or reading or friends.

The lengths I will go to to get homework out of the way is rather astounding.

Tuesday night, the party night at RA, I watched Singin' in the Rain with my housemates (who had never seen it!), and then decided to go ahead and join them to the student bar, Barrel, for a drink.

Barrel was a bust - I didn't know more than 8 of the people present, and the whole time I kept thinking, "If I went home now, I could still get something done."

So, I left. I went home and I read half of the assigned chapter of my art history book. Which didn't even have to be done until Friday.

And after that, at about 3 in the morning, I got online to talk to my brother about a music assignment. Also not due until Friday.

Thursday evening, when I was done with everything for the next day, I seriously considered doing my literature homework for Monday. In the end, though, I opted to watch another Fred and Ginger ("Carefree" - quite decent; the first movie where Ginger Rogers really stood out and I felt actually displayed something of a talent for acting).

Then I got up early on Friday and did most of my lit homework before I went to Art history at 11.

And after I was done with classes at 4, I went home, brewed a pot of coffee and took out the walnotenkoek I treated myself too, and did my music homework. Then I finished the rest of my literature. And now I have almost nothing that must be done this weekend.

It's so strange, but it's gotten to the point where the thought of doing homework tomorrow is even more disgusting than doing it today.

I don't know what has gotten into me, but it might be serious.

At least I hope it is.