It's the Most...Hor-ri-ble Time...of the Year!

Why don't the networks have holiday specials celebrating the final month of the semester in November and April? Everyone could get on the bandwagon. "It's Your GPA, Charlie Brown!" "The Little, Dumber Boy." "Twas the Night Before Finals." And Rankin-Bass could do a special where Frosty the Snowman (voiced by Burl Ives) melts while studying in the library--"All they found was his hat, a book on Latin noun declensions, and a big puddle...." So sad. Did you ever wonder why Frosty didn't just toss Karen into that greenhouse and then go back outside? What the hell was wrong with him? And while we're on the subject of Rankin-Bass holiday specials, did anyone else think that the villain in "The Incredibles" looked just like Heat Miser from "The Year Without a Santa Claus?" (Well, apparently the person I just linked to did. Thank you, google image search!)

See, this is why I never get any work done. I have two huge projects looming over me, one of which I've barely started--or rather, I started it, found out that my subject is utterly unresearchable without a massive travel grant that i don't have, and stopped in a fit of depression. So what am I doing instead? I'm uploading pictures to Flickr. I'm endlessly checking my email. I'm watching all the commentaries on Firefly. I'm watching basketball--Indiana beat Toronto after playing about 40 minutes of just horrible defense, and it was painful to watch yet I didn't turn it off! The heck with Frosty, what the hell's wrong with ME? I'm melting in the greenhouse with Karen, yet I don't have the sense to go outside and close the door!

The great thing about blogging is that I can go back to the last several Novembers and Aprils and realize that I do this to myself every friggin year. I have weeks of horrible guilt and agonizing, followed by one-two passionate weeks of insane work powered by Mountain Dew, followed by a huge sigh of relief and perfectly adequate grades. It would be perfect if I could just leave out the agonizing part and skip straight to the work and the sighing. Apparently the guilt is encoded in my DNA though.... Oh well. It's almost time for the insanity stage anyway.