How to cure writers block

In a pursuit to cure writers block, I am going to blog. You might think, but its a blog, how will you write? But A HAH good sir, (45 second lapse in typing) perhaps it is an audio blog, or a musical blog, or better yet, a gateway to my mind, spewed forth onto the annals of the internets.

Crazy, yes. (another lapse in typing). However, I believe that this writers block is not of written nature, and is more of a thinking block. The words of academia elude me, I cannot start another essay due party to brain fatigue from reading books and primary sources, but also due to a general dissatisfication (that is not a word, but it is now) with the idea of writing two essays on my birthday. Clearly, tomorrow is my birthday, and in all likelihood, I will be writing essays tomorrow because I definitely did not get to it yet today.

There is nothing better than coming up with words because your brain is misfiring and can't think of the word(s) you actually wanted to use. There is also nothing better than annoying people with using non-words like 'unthaw' and 'irregardless' and 'inflamable'. I like annoying people. Sometimes I even intentionally use bad grammar to annoying people. 

Oh, and the other thing that I really like is how I know people who are reading this are probably hearing me in their head. I kinda like being inside your head right now. You had no idea I was so creepy did you? Is it more creepy that I just said that, or that you just heard me say that in your head...am I still in your head? Now you'll just have to keep reading to see what it is I'm going to say next. 

Turns out this is not a cure for writers block, but a stream of consciousness exercise that is running through both your head and mine as you read the words on the screen. (Lapse in typing, check out some links, reads grants blog about foursome gone wrong)

Writers block is the worst. Clearly, my fingers are functioning, and coming up with thoughts and words, but to make those thought at all relevant to the A I would like to get, that is the problem. 

What have I attempted to cure it with so far? Well, I practiced music and blew on a wooden recorder for an hour. Then I made some apple crisp. Then I played some rock band. Well obviously I'm trying this with the idea that any writing is better than no writing, although by this point you're probably thinking....'Really, not so much, this is pretty lame' I bet I made you laugh though. 

(Lapse, thinking, what else have I done today?) Oh, well I checked out facebook. That's pretty standard. I read the news. Didn't inspire me much, though the idea of finding Atlantis made me want to go on vacation...mmm vacation.

I recently decided that since I lack the funds to go places I want to go, all the liquor I buy will be indicative of the places I wish to be. Last night, I travelled to France and England. France was an organic experience, and Specifically I travelled to Newcastle England, which I later learned was not Newcastle, but some other place. . . This proved very entertaining for me as my roommate who does not follow the same plan ended up with beer that tasted like his wife, dirt and honey. Apparently it tasted non-existent? 

I hope I don't start to suffer from bloggers block, if there is indeed such a thing. That would be painful and clearly not conducive to my academic career which relies on blogging to cure writers block. I wonder if its working yet (ponders, then decides blog is done, makes mental note on beginning of essay, sighs, then grins "success")

Interesting facts you might not know

Clearly they are about me.

I figure its time you were in touch with what makes me tick. So I'm about to delve into the deep dark secrets of my life. (Probably not the juicy ones though)

My dad is accident prone. He has been hit by lightning twice. Apparently that hurts. He also got blood poisoning from a pig that bit him while he was trying to fix the water spout thingy in the pen. One time, he was holding an electric fence gate and a cow ran over it and the hook from the gate jammed into his hand (it happened to miss all the tendons, but was still a live wire). He got malaria from a mosquito in the Winnipeg air port, spent most of my child hood Christmases in the hospital, once from some weird thing with 7Th nerve. He has that same face thing as Jean Chretien, but no where near as severe, in fact, you can only tell when its really cold and he gets frostbite. He has had more nails through his foot than he has toes.

My brother has had more rabbis shots than most dogs get in their lives. Once was cuz he thought he was drowning out a gopher, but it was a skunk, then he tomahawk chopped it movie style and had to get the shots cuz they couldn't autopsy the skunk. The provincial vet knows him by name.

My mom, she likes to preach. The fact that I asked for a bible to write an essay freaked her out. . . She's very sweet, and funny. I look like here, but I'm really not at all like her in most ways.

On to me. That first part was mostly so I didn't sound so damn self absorbed.

I have a stuffed bear. I have had him since before I was born. He was a shower present, and his name is To-to. Some nice old lady made him. Sometimes I still sleep with him if I'm having bad dreams, or I'm lonely. I also used to suck my thumb. I don't do that anymore. I had a fisher price bunny too. It was pink. He didn't have a name. My mom and dad had to get rid of him when I was sick, or I lost him somewhere, I don't remember. But they got me a new one cuz I cried non-stop until they did.

I was a sick kid. I had tonsillitis and was in the hospital more times than I can count. I am also extremely intolerant to antibiotics and severely allergic to penicillin and sulfa drugs or even sulphites in food. This is the reason I wear a medical alert bracelet. I also had scarlet fever.

I had a math teacher that also taught my dad, my uncle and my brother. He was pretty cool and from England. I have an odd fascination with England. I kinda want to live there. I also have a fascination with France. I need to be in France right now.

I am generally dripping with sarcasm, for those of you who have not figured out why, let me enlighten you. I do not like to be hurt, and I hide behind humour. I am incredibly self-conscious and shy and awkward. Most of you are probably thinking wtf? but I assure you, I am freaking out in my head most of the time. I require people to be blunt and very, very straight forward with me because I am afraid of being hurt. I will not be offended by bluntness. I play games, but I want 'you' to let me win and then submit to everything I want.

I like stickers, and my mom's dog. I love my mom's dog in fact. Dogs are so much better than people some days, and she is incredibly warm, and I wish she could sleep in my bed every night and not be two hours away. (the dog, not my mom)

Sometimes I dream about dead people and it freaks me out. A lot. That's usually the reason I end up sleeping with the stuffed bear.

I was married. It was a mistake and people got hurt. I probably hurt him, in fact, I know I hurt him. While I feel bad about hurting him, he really didn't give me any other option. I had to make a choice for myself, and I have never held a grudge against him. I am sorry for all the friends I lost over it, but I had to make the right choice for me. I will probably never mend all the bridges and relationships that got damaged, and that truly bothers me. 

I really, really want to believe that love is still out there for me. As Corny and cheesy as I may come off right now, I want to believe that someone out there is as corny and cheesy as me and will someday find me, or at least not be shy. I'm open to anyone sane, or even remotely sane, who knows lots of stupid random facts and is sociable and I can take home. Grant and Amy make me believe this is possible, as much as they are moushy and cheesy to the max, they give me hope.

Okay on that note, confession. I like older men. I do not have a daddy complex. My family upbringing was quite normal and average and not fucked up at all. I just have this thing for well educated, slightly older, debonair, suave, funny, men. I also like the quiet ones. Oh and by slightly older I mean between 10 and 20 years older than me. I am also not a gold digger. Of all the relationships I've ever had the ones with more 'mature' sensible men have been the best. They somehow allowed me to be independent, and since i don't like being suffocated, this works quite well. The attraction is not purely intellectual however, I quite like salt and pepper hair. I think it looks quite sexy. (Jake are you puking yet?) Did I say I like them sarcastic and funny? Probably. 

I have insane stage fright, I think it goes with the self conscious thing. I am really trying to get over it. Even talking in a class is sometimes freaky for me. My mind often goes blank. No Jake, not because I'm attracted to the teacher. . . although. . . :P.

One last thing, I like hugs. I'm a hugging person. Oh and I can keep secrets really well. Someday I want someone to know all my secrets though. Maybe it will be the next person who hugs me. Oh random other fact, I'm dyslexic, but only when I'm tired.

The happiest place on . . .

I just found the happiest place on earth. Wait scratch that. The happiest place on the internets.

http://www.buzzfeed.com/jonah/the-happiest-page-on-the-internet

I like it. Y'all can call me cheesy, and for those of you who know me, occassionally i do break out into a deep south accent. Mostly after a few too many shots of rum.

Medieval jazz fusion. Also very close to the happiest place on earth. Seriously though, not only is it a fantastic idea, its also probably closer to what it sounded like at the time. Tudors rocked it hard core to ya know. Party like is 1099? No??

I think in anycase, they did dance, secular music for sure, had to have rhythm and feeling. None of this up-tight suit and tie, omg, i'm holding a contrabass recorder shit. Dance with the god damned thing! I think, medieval music, especially secular, was all about the being way to drunk in the hall, dancing and shmoozing around. Getting pie-eyed and confessing your love to that lovely lady in a dress to big to approach her in. It was fun, loose, and full of life and vigor. Most importantly it was full of rhythm. 

Music students, can't dance. I may have just let out the secret of the century there. Its okay though, no one reads this. So, in the spirit of dance and song and wine, the piece that I composed for this year's medieval concert, it has rhythm and dance, and I will make those music students losen up their hips and feel the music - and the love. . . Well, just the love that I have for medieval music probably. Anything else would be creepy

How to Capture my soul in 10 easy steps

Whether you call it Singles Awareness Day, or Valentines day matters not. Whether I have been single or with someone has not mattered either. It never lives up to my expectations. Having said that, my expectations are generally higher than most people and I tend to be relatively hard on myself compared to the rest of the population. I think.

All the years I have been old enough to remember valentines day have disappointed me. Unfortunately this blog doesn't end in a happy ending, or even a shmoozy one. 

I was that kid in class who always got valentines cards from everyone. Even in grade three, I understood the meaning behind the words, and questioned why people always seemed to give me the "friend" valentines and not the "i like you, tee hee" valentines. To put this in context, in grade 3 I read Robinson Crusoe, and The Swiss Family Robinson. I also had my grandma read me Shakespeare, and I read Byron, Keats and Browning (they were her favorite poets). By grade six I was checking books out of the BU library, and reading the history of The Tudors, Mary Queen of Scots etc. By grade eight I had exhausted what was interesting to me in history from the BU library, and started reading Nietzsche and Dante. I also read Paradise Lost in grade eight. So essentially the point is, I might have been at a higher reading level and while classmates chose Valentines cards randomly, I was analysing their choices.

My first boyfriend (who yes, I did meet him at band camp) was ummm, perhaps not stable is the best way to describe him. However, he celebrated love every day of the year except Valentines Day. He used to write me songs, and I remember breaking up with him on Halloween and burning everything he or I had ever written and throwing it down a waterfall. In any case, out of principle he didn't celebrate, so I missed out on the sentimental Valentines Day during my teen years. 

The guy I married, well he was just cheap. End of story.

Since then, well there was the mistress situation. That killed valentines. Being alone, kinda takes the fun out of it. There was one year when I was managing a restaurant we had "loser Valentines Day" Drank the lounge dry with 2 other managers, (the bill which he covered was for 27 beers each). We literally drank all the beer the lounge had on hand. Then we ended up at Houstons, I remember having 6 beer. I know I had more than that . . . I also ended up strangling the guy that paid for all the beer in the Women's washroom at Houstons that night. Then I took a cab home. 

This Valentines Day, well, its not a disaster I suppose. Clearly its not great, cuz I'm blogging. Watching the Omen was entertaining. I think I'll go for The Birds next. 

Why does it never live up to what I want. Probably because I'm a hopeless romantic (shhh don't tell :P). Someday, someone should surprise me, sweep me off their feet, and display some grand gesture of love. I don't need expensive, though I am super jealous of the diamond rings that Cody gave Kristy. . 

So, if I have any mystery admirers, or hell, even creepers - you can't be much worse than what I've already encountered. Trust me. Here's your one step guide to capturing my heart and mind.

1. Poetry is cool, I am a nerd.

2. Be discrete, I get embarrassed easily, but love attention.

3. Be romantic, in the cheesy chivalric sense of the word (This reminds me I have to write an essay. Boo.)

4. I am really eccentric and strange some days. It doesn't mean that I don't want to be loved too. :(

5. Don't do music. I'm anal retentive about music. Unless it happens to be super cheesy and like on some strange medieval instrument and self composed. Then I'll be won over instantly.

6. Dote on me, hug me. I like hugs. Hugs make me not sad.

7. For Christ's sake, be freaking blunt. I'm not generally thinking on any level common to anyone. Who ever you may be, you'll have to be blunt. As in "I'm interested in you, in a hump your leg kinda of way." conversely, "I'm interested in you and can't stop thinking about you." or "If I kiss you, will you run away?" are also acceptable. 

8. I like dancing, I'm not good at it, but I like it, and I don't care whether you are good at it either.

9. I am sensitive. I over analyze and sometimes I tire of the games people play. I think the whole flirting game and whatever is so much more fun after someone has the guts to approach the other person. Don't keep me waiting.

10. While I am still waiting for someone to swoop me off my feet, I am realistic. You probably aren't reading this. However, if you are, I'm going to chalk it up to divine intervention. 

This one's for you

I realized this week, that I am not as young as I thought I was. Seriously, I can't add apparently and was off by two years. So to anyone who's asked me how old I am in the last year, add two years please. :(

A wave of, "What am I on crack?" was my first thought at this discovery, and while I may still party hard - admittedly less often and not so much with the all night anymore - that whole age creeping up on you thing is a little freaky. 

The later (not the crack) is the more important part. Mostly I just had to throw in the crack for Jake. Also, for being a post about getting old, this sure has a lot of crack in it. I'm not on crack if anyone cares. Its not organic.

The entire week has led me to the conclusion that I am more middle aged than ever. Those years of crazy music student are fading, and I am becoming responsible. 

Proof 1: It was a little weird for me to see students I tutor or mark at the bar. Then it was even more surreal to realize that they are all younger than my brother.  My brother is clearly the youngest person in the world. He quit aging at about 12 in my mind. Needless to say, he is the more "well-adjusted" one, and has a house, farmland and girlfriend. He has become the epitome of responsibility and sure makes me look like ummm, well a crazy hippie, most days.

Proof 2: When the kid you baby sat when you were 12, gets married. Lil bit weird. When the same kid is pregnant and going to have a baby (redundancy is allowed this early in the day), that's even more étrange. 

Proof 3: When everyone else in the bar thinks that the songs are all new, but they're really just covers of songs that came out in the 70's and 80's. When you then realize the bar is a pub, you are pretty much the same age as the guys in the band. Then to top it all off, you're closer in age to the parents of the guy who is having a birthday, not the guy who is having the birthday. Oh, actually this gets even worse. The person that you're sitting with at the bar, he might be the conductor, but you have much more in common with him than any of the students. 

Proof 4: While at said bar, you can reminisce about 99 and how the school has gone down hill since then. Oh and when you both remember teachers that have retired, three deans and then go on an academic rant about how jazz today is really just a new form of medieval music. (It really is. I will write about that later.)

Proof 5: When the bar/pub no longer has a problem with giving you a tab. Not because you're there every night, but because you're "old" and not a "flight risk". 

Proof 6: Any number of list of health/sleep related things. Can't drink coffee after 7, unless you want to be up all night. Are tired at 9pm, then can't sleep until 2am, then wake up at 7am and cant' go back to sleep. Need to have an afternoon nap. Most weird when you go home to see your parents and both you and your dad fall asleep in chairs after lunch.

So enough of the whining about being old. The point is, I like being old. Getting old is almost exciting in some twisted eccentric way.  I haven't figured out why yet. I'll let you know. It probably has something to do with medieval/jazz fusion.

The real deal

So, I did the 25 things on facecrack. Now you get the real 25 things. (There are probably only 20, i'm pretty tired.)

The other things are all real, just not necessarily telling of who I am.

This post is intended to trip you up in real life. I'm sneaky like that.

1. I sleep naked. The only time I haven't slept naked was when I live with Jake, and then it was becuase the cat slept with me, not necessarily because Jake was there. I once had a 20 minute conversation with dave while he was standing in the door of my bedroom. I was naked, he didn't realize it.

2. I have done more drugs than most people think/realize. However, I stick to organic except for the one time with the duck and being slipped acid. That is why I stick to organic. I'm all about the mind altering.

3. I know your reading this Uncle Bill. . . So here's one for you. I love Harley's, almost as much as I like older men. Give me an older man who is academically talented and willing to learn to ride a Harley, and I might even consider getting married again.

4. Being married was a huge cluster-fuck. It may have messed me up for quite a while. The only thing I miss about being married is falling asleep beside someone. However, I do not miss him, or even falling asleep with him or sharing a bed with him. I just miss the body. I'm waiting for a better one to show up.

5. I am really freekn supersitious and anal retentive. The glasses are stacked in ascending size, and three to a row and all like kinds together. The plates are similar. There are only certain things allowed on the table and coffee table.

6. I am nice, sometimes. I appease my roommate by not brewing coffee in the morning because he hates the smell so much.

7. I know far, far to many daves. I have slept with 50% of the daves I know. You know who you are, I havn't really been satisfied with any of them yet. I'm waiting for the perfect one to come along and prove to me all dave's aren't asses.

8. I really really wonder who is reading this. Its the whole reason I'm reading this.

9. I think people don't get me. I don't even try anymore to make people understand. In the grand scheme of life it doesn't matter anyways.

10. Someday I want children. I think I will adopt. 

11. I want a tatoo of St. Brigid. 

12. I am a kind person, I will do almost anything for my friends. I don't often ask for favours in return. I believe that when I need them my friends will be there for me becuase I was there for them.

13. I am most definately in love with my mom's dog. I love animals in general. Sometimes, I wonder just how much they understand. I talk to my mom's dog and my cat like they're people. 

14. I practice both meditation and witchcraft. I require something to balance my life. I do not do it out of a religious belief, rather I do it to learn and grow within myself. I had parents who had very differing views of religion and life and I believe that it was this dualistic lifestyle that has made me become the accepting person I am today.

15. I believe all faith is held to comfort oneself and explain the world around us. I am not a very faith based person. I think that explanations are not useful, but spending time wisely and living how I want to live now is more important.

16. I really am writing a sitcom. You people have no idea how much fodder you give me on a daily basis.

17. I don't say no very often. Once I said no and he didn't listen. I reserve saying no for times when impending doom, or hurting another is imminent. I believe very strongly that saying no a lot denies people of experiences that would have made them richer. 

Has this worked in the past? Very much so. Has it had consequences? Yes. . . I have been involved with the wrong people and made choices that were dangerous. No one ever got hurt and that is what is important.

18. I know astrology doesn't pan out scientifically, but I like it. I like it a lot. I don't care. I even write horoscopes for the quill. Astrology is fun as fuck.

19. My feet are size 4. I can still buy kids shoes.

20. I do not get tired of sex. There is no such thing as too much. That doesn't mean I want it all the time either. It means I am one of those people who can be convinced to stay in bed all day, cook breakfast and have it in bed, nap and have him in bed. Ignore homework and work and have him in bed. I am also romantic by nature and like being swept off my feet (proverbally).

21. I am deathly afraid of bridges over water. I close my eyes when I'm driving over them. It freaks me out more if there is on coming traffic on a bridge and I have to meet it. I was stopped on the bridge on 18th street and got rear ended last fall. I had been afraid of bridges ever since I was little. Specifically over water. Sometimes I wonder what past lives I've had.

22. Everyone says I have an old soul. If I have been around for so long, I'd like to think I was first born in the Roman era, or even Grecan. Then reincarnated just in time for the crusades, in Paris for the revolution and a beatnick in the 1930's. 

23. I have dreams before people die. Once or twice they have come to me after they've died too. Thinking about my Grandpa still makes me cry.

24. I want to find love. I want to share my life with someone and I secretly hope he's reading this right now. (Don't worry Jake, its not you. :P)

25. I am not going out with Kusnick. He is my roommate and my co-worker and the Will of my will and grace. We are the closest thing to siblings that two people can be with out being siblings. We have no desire to jump eachothers bones. Just so we're clear.

26. I have broken all the rules at least once. I'd like to break some more. I'll even be naughty to do so.

Respond via email if you read it and your not subscribing. Or Facebook inbox. I may say "I knew it."

Lil bit of a rant on the number 25

Okay, so at first the whole 25 things about me on Facebook chain letter. That was lame.

I held out for what was a decent amount of time. Then couldn't sleep one night and decided 3am was an appropriate time to begin writing. I will be the first to admit that people learned exactly what I wanted them to learn about me. 

I will also admit, I am entertained by some of my friends responses. I was especially entertained by the people who filled it out drunk. I suppose it is one of the least inflamatory things you can do on drunk facebook. 

I like my facecrack as much as anyone else. I still find it weird when people say they've read something, or comment on it 30 seconds after I post it. Wait 2 minutes. Better yet, wait until I change facecrack chat to be off line, while I'm looking at everyone else's page, and then post whatever it is. 

I'll read it and I'll comment on it or drop hints later. 

This post, its here for the entire purpose of revealing who is reading my blog and is also on facebook, but not 'man' enough to follow my blog.

Collective Controversy on Campus

The Annual General Meeting (AGM) held by Brandon University Students’ Union (BUSU) on January 27th, 2009 presented a controversy on campus related to a possible new Men’s Collective. 

Will Breen, former Science Commissioner for BUSU council, proposed both the formation of a Men’s Collective as well as a position of Men’s Commissioner on BUSU council. 

While speaking as the motivator, Breen addressed the issue of discrimination against men on campus, stating, “We have a case where the male population of students, 30%, is not only under-represented, they are un-represented on campus as a result of motions just passed at the AGM. 

Men are the only group that are specifically excluded from a liaison relationship with BUSU council.” 

Part of Breen’s original motion was ruled out of order, as the establishment of Collectives is not dealt with at an AGM, but debate continued over the establishment of a Men’s Commissioner on BUSU council. 
Lonnie Patterson and Kylie Stasila were among student voices debating against the creation of the position. Paterson stated that while she was not against the idea of a Men’s commissioner, she still had some reservations. “I’m not clear, just based on the motivation and the motion that occurred, what sort of men’s issues this will cover.” 

Patterson went on to say, 
“We need to see a bit of ground work, first, before a commissioner position is created.” Her comments concluded with support for the notion, but not the motion as it stood before the AGM of January 27th, 2009. 

Kylie Stasila, the Women’s Commissioner on BUSU council, as well as an active member of the campus Women’s Collective, added to Paterson’s comments: “If men do feel they are being discriminated against, come talk to BUSU…. Why wasn’t this issue brought forward before today?...Why not make a motion instead to have a Gender Equality Commissioner?” 

During her speech against the motion, Stasila also pointed out the imbalance in male as compared to female faculty members and stated that while there may only be 30% male students on campus, male faculty numbers still far outweigh female faculty members. 

The final debate for the motion was given by Mitch Obach, who responded to Mike Jack’s, VP Finance assertion that there was no need for a collective as “I have never felt under-represented or discriminated against…. If you guys wanna drink beer and hangout and play poker, we do that all day already.” Obach retorted, “I think this kind of attitude is exactly what a Men’s Commissioner would be against.” 

During the debate, a motion to table the issue was brought forward by BUSU president Stephen Montague and was defeated. 

Stress, and oh yeah, beer solves writers block. At least for today.

Stress is the most undesirable of all feelings. 

I would rather have a broken heart, be angry, or sad and lonely. I do not, in fact, mind being any of these thing, but I dislike stress. 

I do not know how to deal with high stress. It causes me to turn to various crutches and bad habits instead of deal with the underlying issue, no matter how simple or straighforward it may seem to others. 

Do I have time for a 'romantic' life? Hell no. Do I even have time most days for a casual relationship? No a chance. Am I seeing someone now you may wonder. . . why yes. Not that often. His name is Chris, I used to work with him. He is not fictional, as many of you have suggested, but seriously, when would the rest of you ever get to see him with me? I see him at the times when normal people are sleeping because those are the only free spots I have left.

Why am I not sleeping. I'm a huge insomniac.

I am writing this blog because I am stressed. I am writing compuslively so that I can somehow expell the stress deamon. It is not working. I am so tired and stressed I have no coping mechanisms left. 

As many of you know, I do many things. As part of this rant I am going to explain Monday through Friday to you.

Monday - up by 8 at The Quill by 9, class at 1030, get mail on way to class, back to quill at 1130, to studio at 12 to practice, rehersal at 1240, class at 140, back to quill at 3, work at coffee shop at 9, hope its not busy so i can get some reading done, walk home around 915. Do home work/write music until I fall asleep in a pile of books.

Tuesday up at 8 quill by nine, quill all day, tutoring occassionally, come home for super at 6 maybe, if not busy, class at seven, walk home after 10 when class is done. Do home work/write music until i fall asleep in a pile of books. Side note, History Club is at 1240. It is the one thing I do that is 'social' and that I enjoy. It makes me sad I can never go see the movies. :(.

Wednesday - up at 8 to quill by 9, class at 1030, get mail on way to class, back to quill at 1130, read case for class, work at quill, class at 140, back to quill at 3, work at coffee shop at 4 walk home at 915, Do home work/wirte music until I fall asleep in a pile of books.

Thursday - up at 8, to quill by 9, work at quill in am, class at 130, back to quill at 430, meeting and or production day, class at 6, back to quill at 9, if production. Home sometimes by 11, usually much later, aka 3am or so. Do home work/write music until I fall asleep in a pile of books.

Friday - up at 8 to quill by 9, class at 1030, back to quill at 1130, studio at 1230, tutor at 100, rehersal at 240, back to quill at 340, meeting/end day. go home by 6, probably for get to get stuff off the S drive at school, walk back to school, go to library, get books for whatever i need at the time, come back home. Drink. Read/do home work/write music until I fall asleep in a pile of books.

Sat/Sunday - attempt to sleep. Do all homework, mark for course if necessary. If marking for course, allocate at least 25 hours on the weekend to do so. 

Is there a solution to this? Why do I do it?

I will explain the latter first. I do so many things because I cannot shut my brain off. I might as well be doing something useful. Is that a cop out yes. Am I a horribly flawed person, yes. Those of you who know anything about my past may have ideas why. Keep them to yourself. 

Is there a solution?

Not one that I am willing to deal with right now. 

Guess I stay stressed for now. Eventually it will even out. Karma loves me.