A Lazy Weekend

Lethargy. Languor. Torpor. We four bonded this weekend.

The last academic thing I accomplished was a story memo submitted Wednesday. Since then the energy and desire to be productive has been on a slow, steady deceleration that has left me feeling, well, like my three aforementioned buddies.

Despite triggering a sea-change in my perspective on a lot of things, the semester looks to be making a relatively quiet departure. This last week demands only two assignment from me and then just three take-home final assignments separate me from the end.

Exhaustion isn't the cause of my slowdown. This semester doesn't touch the academic rigors last fall brought. It's me tiring of the monotonous routine of school yet wanting desperately to hold on to it forever.

It's the frustration at seeing my field of study go through such the degeneration, upheaval and change.

It's the impatience of waiting for responses to the various applications I've sent out.

It's the uncertainty that follows May 22, 2009.

It's the gluttony of a weekend spent eating snacks instead of meals.

Clad in my beige velveteen sweatpants and oversized navy blue Yale sweatshirt, I feel like a bear on the verge of hibernation. The bitter cold and blustery wind don't help either.

I found one source of frustration officially shared via this NYTimes column by Timothy Egan, which sums up the rant I dumped on poor Nancy last night about how irritating it is that everyone suddenly thinks they can be a journalist.