So, here I am: sitting at my desk. It is midnight, or just after. I have a paper due tomorrow. I have a topic and all the material to do said paper. It’s only 5 pages. It’s a clearly focused topic that was assigned on a manageable story about 8 pages in length. This is not a Herculean Labor laid here before my feet and yet I can hardly muster the will to look down at the papers scattered across my desk that list the topic or my few notes for the paper.
The worst part about this is that it’s the last paper of my career as an Undergrad, this is something of an anti-climax, honestly. My grades this semester have been mediocre but fairly so, my work has been mediocre. I haven’t worked long and hard, part of me rebels because I’ve gone rather gently into that dark night. I will not stand before a committee and defend a thesis the product of long hours of research into glorious minutia. I arrived undistinguished almost four years ago and will leave here similarly as far as anyone else is concerned.
I really should get back to writing this paper, ahem, or start writing this paper. I’m so close to the end now and can taste it and all I want to do is stop, I’m so close I can’t find the small puddle of motivation I normally draw from.