slothfully good

So, of course, when I write a little explanatory note apologizing in advance for not writing much this week, that's when I feel like writing randomly.
Yup, that time stamp isn't lying (at least I assume so - sometimes it's very wrong). It's 7:20 am on a Sunday and I'm trying my best to stumble through my Maritime Archaeology work. I'd had serious problems focusing on assignments and papers in the past - something about the last minute really helps me zero in on what I have to do - but this year has been just awful. I've spent the past few days here, at home, with my laptop in front of me and nine Word documents open, spacing out and staring at the wall. Walks, coffee, naps, talking papers out, even going and being stressed out about non-school things - nothing helps.The problem, of course, is the same problem I run into every year. I focus best when I'm at the last minute possible, and all the prep work and research I've been assembling suddenly gels. This is fine at most points in the year, but this is NOT a good time to be leaving things until they suddenly work. I have too much to do.
Hence the early morning. And you know, I even have more done now than I did yesterday. And I know that no matter how bad this week is, it will pass, and I'll probably do just fine. It's easier stuff, in a way, than the Augustus presentations that were stressing me out last month; this is a group presentation, and then a presentation to the five people I've been brainstorming with for months on the topic. Not so bad.
Just insert your own joke here about being lazy, and also baby sloths, okay?


Awww.

Oh, the non-school stress? Friday was the Goblet Grab, the reason for the angry posters of doom. Shasta asked me to give her a hand with the setup and last minute things, and then the actual event.
It went very well, all things considered. We had exactly the right amount of wine. The event was exactly long enough, the venue was lovely, no one broke any of the goblets. Everyone had a good time, and aside from making a good chunk of cash for the council, we really raised the profile of the NBCC; nothing makes the local arts community warm and fuzzy quite like a well-executed fund raiser, especially one involving silly amounts of wine and the opportunity to riot and elbow each other to swarm tables of handcrafted pottery and glass.
But of course, it didn't look like that at 4:00 Friday afternoon when the wine order was screwed up, the brownies from the Blue Door weren't even out of the oven, the tulips had to be forced to bloom in a sink of warm water, and suddenly some people had done some unreported ticket selling and we had more tickets than goblets. Absolutely nothing can happen without a few hiccups, I know. At the end of the day, the important thing is that people walked away feeling good about the event in general and there were no deaths - hey, we even made money.

Now just for these stupid projects.