In November I began what I promised would be a series of short blips of my day-to-day goings-on, then got distracted. Well, this is me delivering on what I'm sure you've been dying to read. This entry has a soundtrack, so please sit back and enjoy old slow hands as I rap a tale (I can't really rap, I'm far too white - what I do is more like an episode of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood, without all the explicit language).
My eyes creak open, the light outside gives no hint as to the time. It seems too dark to get up, but that sharp pain in my back from my awesome bed (which I'm convinced was designed as a 15th century Spanish torture device) says that I've been in bed too long. I strain my eyes to see the clock across the room (not that the clock is hard to see, just that my eyes are opposed to being open in general). 9:30, and still the sun hasn't even flirted with the tops of the buildings on the Moscow skyline. Even in the dark morning, I can see the heavy snow flakes whirl through the maze of high-risers in the wind of the city...
After a morning run, a breakfast consisting of a Snickers bar (I know what you're thinking, Candy for breakfast! That's crazy! Well, I'm an adult, and I can do whatever I feel like, so deal with it), and a shower of unpredictable and all too fickle temperature, I settle down to business. I curl up on the heater so delightfully situated right next to my bed, turn on Eric Clapton's Unplugged concert, and dig up a few articles about game theory in investment markets.
While that all sounds pretty great, right now my productivity depends solely on me. If I want to be active on any given day, it's 100% up to me. I have almost no scheduled classes from here on out, my thesis adviser is an insane Armenian who doesn't know the first thing about my topic (possibly because she refuses to read what I've written so far), and if I really wanted to I could just coast through the next six months doing practically nothing. The days creep by, and my dedication wanes and waxes in cycles that would baffle Ptolemy himself.
This type of independent responsibility is a bit new to me. I've always had pressing deadlines or other people pushing me. It's sort of a self-revealing exercise having to completely depend on personal drive.
My eyes creak open, the light outside gives no hint as to the time. It seems too dark to get up, but that sharp pain in my back from my awesome bed (which I'm convinced was designed as a 15th century Spanish torture device) says that I've been in bed too long. I strain my eyes to see the clock across the room (not that the clock is hard to see, just that my eyes are opposed to being open in general). 9:30, and still the sun hasn't even flirted with the tops of the buildings on the Moscow skyline. Even in the dark morning, I can see the heavy snow flakes whirl through the maze of high-risers in the wind of the city...
After a morning run, a breakfast consisting of a Snickers bar (I know what you're thinking, Candy for breakfast! That's crazy! Well, I'm an adult, and I can do whatever I feel like, so deal with it), and a shower of unpredictable and all too fickle temperature, I settle down to business. I curl up on the heater so delightfully situated right next to my bed, turn on Eric Clapton's Unplugged concert, and dig up a few articles about game theory in investment markets.
While that all sounds pretty great, right now my productivity depends solely on me. If I want to be active on any given day, it's 100% up to me. I have almost no scheduled classes from here on out, my thesis adviser is an insane Armenian who doesn't know the first thing about my topic (possibly because she refuses to read what I've written so far), and if I really wanted to I could just coast through the next six months doing practically nothing. The days creep by, and my dedication wanes and waxes in cycles that would baffle Ptolemy himself.
This type of independent responsibility is a bit new to me. I've always had pressing deadlines or other people pushing me. It's sort of a self-revealing exercise having to completely depend on personal drive.
I have almost the exact same experience every single morning. Except it's not game theory nudging me awake, it's yelling children. They may be quite similar, though. We can explore that idea further, later. At least we have sunshine. It's so hard to live without deadlines. It's funny, isn't it? So many people work for the short times they can live without boundaries, but then when you live that way, you find it so hard to be productive and feel self-satisfied.
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