so, like, yeah, you know? as of 5:59 this a.m. (barring unforeseen circumstances, like perhaps revisiting my work and finding it wanting*) i officially finished my very last bit of work for the first semester. i thought i was done yesterday, but chatting with my classmates made me realise that the essay, a shining pinnacle*** of erudition, wit and smartypantsedness, was not at all what the professor wanted. what the professor wanted, god bless his shiny little head, was a paper written for the mayor and, let's be honest, barring the lovely mayor of cochrane who is a classmate of mine, the elected official does not always boast the most astute intelligence. at least not according to the professor. and so, having dropped the manila envelope off at the office that morning, i went and retrieved it that afternoon and decided to let the dumbing down begin.
sadly (oh lord, so very very sadly) i chose to go out for one drink. one. that was my first mistake. my second mistake involved ordering wine instead of my usual grad school beer. you see, beer is not my love. beer is a good pal. i can have one, or two, and on rare occasion, even three beers. and i remain myself. oh sure, a little more boisterous and a whole lot louder, but i remain firmly ensconced in me-ness. wine, on the other hand, wine, my love, opens up the floodgates of me. it's me squared, and as lovely as i'm sure that sounds to all you out there who adore me, let me tell ya - scary shit, that! my third mistake was forgetting the sad fact that for the past 4 months my alcohol consumption has been negligible. one glass done and a sip of the second glass in, i had his worship in stitches, and my other classmates astonished at the fact that i seemed all of a sudden totally and completely wasted as i told them i loved them (well aware of the drunk "i love you, man" that i was referencing - i'm SO fucking post-modern it hurts... no, really: it does hurt). some people left, and i ought to have looked to them for inspiration. instead, i made my fourth mistake: went to another bar with two lovely folk who will never look at me the same way again. there, in that friendly little neighbourhood pub, i made my fifth mistake, and ordered a half a litre of wine. my roommate came and picked me up on his way home from the airport which, i am certain, prevented me from making any more mistakes. i am certain we talked on the way home, but i do not know about what. i am sure i told him i loved him, cause i was on a roll. once home, we sat and chatted for a long while, then i went up to bed and made my sixth and final mistake: i took half a sleeping pill which is possibly still in me now. i jolted awake at 3:45 (some sleeping pill, that. though, to be perfectly honest, it might have been having some sort of pharmaceutical powwow with the wine and the other stuff i'm on****) and that was that.
i was up before 4:00, reworking my essay between 4:30 and 5:59, and 6:30 finds me sitting here in my flannel pyjamas talking to you. let's call that my first and second successes of the day. if i'm careful and the gods love me, arriving safely in edmonton will be my third success of the day. after that, i think i'll lower my expectations somewhat so i don't get cocky. people hate a cocky gal.
one thing's for sure - writing an essay at 4 in the morning is not a great idea, but taking an already written essay and dumbing it down for political consumption is a fantastic idea. i added bullet points, made long words shorter, cut out hifalutin concepts and even briefly considered making a pie chart with actual pie smeared on the page, but i found myself bereft of pie. i am sober and awake enough to realise that i ought not send the essay to the prof yet, on account of any residual judgment impairment. i will go home, let it sit for a bit, look it over tonight and repost it with the promised note of "dumbed down version."
and thus ends my first semester: not with a bang, but with a head-shaking, eye-rolling frustration at my continued inability to control my wine intake or verbal output.
* one's expectations, talents and grasp of basic concepts like punctuation and grammar are admittedly not at a high point at 4 a.m., with wine AND sleeping pills still flooming**through one's bloodstream
** yes it is a word. i just made it. it means floating really fast in a zooming-like fashion: flooming. come on! pass it on! let's make it real!
*** is there any other kind?
**** stuff that is keeping me from bursting into tears at inopportune moments