I am so unfit. And there are so many kinds of unfit to be - match fit, piss fit, fit fit. I am none of these things. Add to that a complete lack of essay-writing fit and I'm screaming for a Biggest Loser-cum-Are You Smarter Than a 5th Grader type makeover.
I am ex-hausted. The last time I pulled an all-nighter I was 20 and, thanks to the imbibing of too much red bull and one too many energy chocolate bars, all I remember is the strange sensation of being outside my body while watching my hands blurrrrr over the keyboard.
Ok yes I fucking procrastinated. I also momentarily lost my essay before realising I'd inadvertently dragged it to the trash folder (prescient Freudian slip I hope not...), ate my body weight in crap and drank enough diet coke to drown a small child. So much angst and so many calories for such a relatively small assignment.
Returning to academia really is like returning to the gym after four years of decadent holidaying, slothing and too much of too many of the good things in life. You pick the easiest machine, set the least resistance and cheat yourself at every opportunity with small bribes and pointless distractions, convinced that there is plenty of time to peddle at an 85 degree incline - for now a gentle, even inconsistent meander is enough - because YAY for you for even getting on the bike.
Not even my special essay-writing dress (what? like as if you don't have one of those...) could lessen the pain that has been the last four days.
But it is now done and it is now submitted. THANK. GOD. Because I look like shit. And let's not talk of dissertations. I'm off to bed.