on the rewards of slothism

I have lived by several mottos through my (19-years-one-week-and-ongoing) life. One is Time enjoyed is time not wasted; another is No regrets, and also maybe You only live once, when I’m feeling especially ultra-dated-mainstream.

In effect, my philosophy in life is always to do things that I enjoy for myself (because, perhaps, my life motto is actually Love yourself above all things). I sleep and I eat and I do a lot of other possible inadvisable activities to the cost of other people’s feelings, my studies, my health, my social sanity… Rationalizing bad behavior is something I’ve come to master. I barely recall what remorse feels like.

But the relevance of this whole vomit comes at several points today:


I woke up 10AM this morning for my 1130 class. Some people would already congratulate me for waking up that early, but that would be premature. It actually took me one hour and thirty minutes to get out of bed and into my breakfast, and another 20 minutes to muster up the same will to hop to the shower. ALMOST TWO HOURS I spent dawdling about in bed; but this is my customary fashion, and most likely no one is surprised.

I ended up 30 minutes late to class, but what’s new? …I liked lazing about in bed anyway.


It should also be noted that me waking up at 10AM meant that I spent a grand total of… (1 + 4 + 7 = 12) TWELVE HOURS ASLEEP.

I was only supposed to nap, but I ended up skipping dinner, my scheduled 121 studying time, and an assortment of life experiences… but I really love to sleep, so it’s fine.


And today I attended my Physics 52 class and saw my bastard grade. It is slightly depressing –I passed the exam, but just barely.

I did expect it, to be honest. While Math and Physics are generally easy subjects for me, the specific coverage of last exam –magnetism and electromagnetism — stretched my ability to imagine reality. It didn’t help that twenty minutes into the exam last Saturday I found that I remembered roughly 3 out of a gazillion equations (and I was only able to stave off the panic because I was, well, me, and generally not prone to useless anxiety).

Up until now, after rechecking our answer sheets and racking up plus two points from necessary corrections, I still only vaguely understand the topic.

But the whole story is only relevant if I cough up the truth –and Lord knows I hope my mother is not reading this— I barely attended the class the last couple of weeks (though I maintain that I have complete notes!).

The trade-off was simple: get extra sleeping and bed-hogging time, versus attend a class where I won’t learn anything different from what my textbook can give me. The choice was always easy.

But the thing is, I know I’m not stupid. I shouldn’t have to go to class just to learn (what a dangerously lazy notion) as I do well in all my other classes, and the level of effort has been the same across the board –bar botany lab classes where the planting of maize and monggo seeds equates to demanding 500% more effort. I understand the same with or without a lecture, and in the case of physics, I actually understand Giancoli even better. (But obviously not enough).

SO NOW I am reaping my rewards, which is either a revitalized attempt to get into actual study mode (hopefully) or a dismissal of the problem and a return to uselessness (equally likely).


It’s November, and there are only three weeks left to class, if that.

There are probably around 15 exams left to be squeezed out of my 5 or so subjects, which means that my indolence will be further strained:

Dream of Christmas, or dream of that magna cum laude?

The answer is both, obviously. But there’s a dichotomy somewhere, I know it.

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