Deadlines, Man

I wish I blogged more. I feel like I always talk about this, and by talk I mean write, but the truth is that whenever I blog now, it's because I miss it. The salad days of this blog are gone, which is probably a good thing because this blog nonchalantly flourished when my life, as measured by happiness/satisfaction in my job, did not. That was during a distinct period when I was working in public relations and all I wanted to do was get paid to write. And even though I currently don't get paid to write as much as I would like to get paid or to write, if that makes sense, I still continue on with the hope that both the payment and the writing assignments will increase.

Right now, I am basking in the late afternoon Sunday sun and I'm supposed to be writing an article that was due on Friday but that I was too burnt out to do last week and I fear that I'm too burnt out to do right now. I'm testing the limits. I thrive in an organized environment—I like rules, deadlines, structure, assigned seats, all that jazz. All my life I've seen deadlines as unchanging due dates that had to be met. I never handed an assignment late in school because I was too scared of the consequences, nor did I ever even stop to consider what those consequences could be. They were probably lower grades and I was okay with getting bad grades as long as I knew that I had tried as hard as I could (shout out to the time I failed my linear algebra exam(s)), but low grades that were in my control/a result of my own laziness weren't going to fly in my book of self-satisfaction. But right now, at the ripe age of 24.9 I'm tired! And I'm burnt out! I just want to watch Aziz Ansari's new show on Netflix and Indian Summers on PBS and random episodes of Sex and the City.  But I can't because I've worked so hard to send out random pitches on topics that I want to be the one to explore and write and tell an audience as small as twenty people about. So I will send in my assignment two days late tomorrow and see if the editor says anything, but a part of me thinks that he forgot about me because it's for a print magazine and man oh man does print move slowly. I don't really have much to say except that it's 3:10 PM and I'm going to give myself an hour to write then I will take a break and get back to it. ARGH!!!!