Today marks the beginning of my fourth week as a Bostonian. My head is finally beginning to stop spinning, as the recent whirlwind of moving and familiarizing myself to a new city has given way to the more day-to-day concerns of schoolwork. I've been feeling like a bobblehead doll these past few weeks, my head on springs, bouncing from one worry to the next, everything from where to buy groceries to what's the fastest way downtown to campus. As those concerns have faded to a slight, but palpable sense of security, I've been able to look ahead to the semester, my dread only slightly less palpable than my security.
I'm a slacker. Always have been. I procrastinate. A lot. (No, writing this blog entry is not keeping me from school work; that's what doing the dishes later is for.) Even during the last few years, while I was chugging away at my bachelor's degree, there were many times when I wouldn't complete an assignment or a reading until the night before it was do. Or the morning. And I'd like to say that will change, that I'll get my work done ahead of time and not brush up precariously close against due dates and deadlines, but, honestly, it's gotten me this far, hasn't it?
That's what's interesting about me and journalism. Deadlines. Deadlines are the veritable bogeyman of reporters, always looming over their shoulder, hiding in the shadows, seething, waiting for the right moment to pounce! And suddenly you're out of time and your instructor or editor needs what you're working on. In school, missing a deadline can get you an F. In the really real world, it can get you fired.
But I don't usually have the problem of missing deadlines. I just squeeze every last minute that I can out of them, wringing them like a wet sponge, the seconds dripping away, and then I hand in my paper and get an A on it. So I guess I should stop stressing about how I'm going to do this work and just get around to actually doing it.
Right now, though, I've got some "House," "Heroes" and "Castle" to watch. Everyone's got their priorities.