Wednesday, November 13, 2013

The stress of college life.

There's an ad trying to get me to play Naruteymans Z or something on the internet that I just saw on my Deviantart. I don't know why, in this era of targeted ads, they think I'd be interested. While it's true I play a browser-based game, and that I somewhat like anime, I'm not interested in kids' animes.

I'm grabbing ahold of that because that is the least, smallest, tiniest problem I have before me. I think that's the way to go here... ease into this. I just tried to take a sip of water, just to discover my mug is empty. Which reminds me that the office manager (don't dare call the lovely and capable Brenda Brown a mere "secretary" or you'll soon regret it; she really is the most useful person in the office, myself included) has gotten tired of people not pitching in for Culligan water, and has staged a strike. The water cooler has a call to action taped to it. Tragedy of the commons. I'm going to go get some faucet water, I'll be right back.

Coming back from that, I noticed a stress ball on my desk. It's got a smiley face on it and it was given to me by my Intro to Graduate Studies professor. I'm going to skunch him a few times before I continue. There, much better.

When I came back from college last night, I was stressing the hell out. My history paper was turned in a day late, for reasons that were mostly to do with the college's shitty online class software, and that professor doesn't accept late assignments. I have enough required sources for my literature review for that Intro to Graduate Studies class, but my writing abilities mean that I can express clearly and concisely in one page what another student needs two pages to do. Furthermore, as a historian (and not some sort of quantitative researcher), it's a lot easier for me to express what I need to in the literature review. I don't have to really define anything or explain methodologies too much. I can't really have a traditional hypothesis other than "It is hypothesized that the 2012 fires kinda sucked for everyone involved, huh?" and indeed, hypotheses are kinda discouraged in qualitative studies.

However, she insists she wants this thing close to 20 pages. I'm currently at 11, and it was 10 before I remembered to milk an extra page or so out of it with inch-thick margins. With not a whole lot else to say, I'm left putting in even more sources than I really need, just so I can make this silly page count. And those sources? I can't just find them like everyone else can. I can't Google search this noise; unlike my classmates I chose something local and requiring a whole pile of primary documents. The benefit of it being local is that I can do the research without travelling overmuch, but the downside is I can't just spend a night at a computer. I have to get ahold of people that aren't me and get them to let me into archives that aren't closed to the public, but not really set up for general public access either. In the case of the Dawes County Historical Museum, they're closed this time of year; I'm hoping I can get in touch with the director and get special access.

Also, I'm moving. The house is barely packed and we have to have to have to be out by the 30th. If it weren't for Draya, it wouldn't even be clean by now.

This is the stuff that keeps me awake at night. I've been rocking beyond reality every night for the past three nights, and this is why - I just can't sleep otherwise; I need something to take away my stress. I am afraid that I am slowly descending into madness, or hell. Without Draya, I surely would be.

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