Sleepless Nights

I've not been getting much sleep recently, due to my terrible habit of procrastinating, and an onset of a terrible cold.

I did my essay plan early, borrowing the necessary reference materials, marking out good examples in the books and wrote the introduction- but I just sat on it. There was no inspiration or motivation to continue, and I was dogged down by the pile of novels I had to finish reading. 

So what did I do about that?

Nothing.

I tend to run from responsibilities, adopting a strategy that would be best alluded to the ostrich. If I put it out of my sight, I can pretend it doesn't exist (and this continues until the tasks are literally up to my neck and I can't shirk it any longer)

Anyway- back to my sleepless troubles-

I stayed up till 5am the last two nights before the deadline, throwing out a huge chunk of my points because I felt they were irrelevant (and I had too many ideas), feverishly flipping through the reference books that had multicoloured post-its sticking out

A photo posted by Eveeee (๑´ㅂ`๑)♡*.+゜ (@evangelskies) on Nov 11, 2014 at 6:44pm PST

That's just one book. Take that, multiplied by 4, and add other 18th Century novels I cross-referenced.

So as you can imagine, I felt very sorry for myself and consequently vowed to never shirk work and (more importantly) get more rest.

That didn't happen- as fate always likes to have it- because I woke up with the worst sore throat in months and that night, a blocked nose, itchy throat, and chills. I ran out of honey lemon tea, mints and I left my kettle in the kitchen.

Now, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous (as it does to me as I am typing now) but at that moment I felt absolutely pathetic, weak and unloved.

All utterly ridiculous thoughts, to be sure, but you tend to wallow in your misery when you're not feeling well and hope someone says 'you poor darling'. You want that response. You want attention. You want someone to stay by you and fuss over the tiniest things.

When I started this blog post, I started it feeling very sorry for myself.

Let's write a long tale of woe, and maybe someone will feel sorry for me.

Two paragraphs into the post, I realised how stupid I looked but it's too late to stop now. I proceeded to plow through with the post, guzzling warm tea, sneezing repeatedly... but feeling a lot better about myself.