I was at school for 27 of the past 48 hours. After entering the doors at 8:00am, I did not breathe fresh air until 21:30 that night. That's ridiculous.
I am proud to say that this evening I started and finished my paper for Rédaction universitaire. Hooray me! As I explained to one of my astonished classmates (who saw me waiting for my ride at 21:30 and chatted with me for a bit as to why I would still be at school), j'sais pas si c'est de la qualité, but it's done!
I say that with such flippancy to nearly everyone I talk to, and it is true to some degree, but if it wasn't quality at all, there's no way I would ever have allowed myself to print it off and hand it in. I procrastinate like mad, my eyes end up crossing halfway through my papers, and I mock-quit hundreds of times in an evening, but when it comes down to it, I want to be proud of my work. Why else would I waste any time at all getting it done?
Back to staying at school until the dark hours of the evening... the upside is that you end up having interesting chats with extremely random people you would never have otherwise connected with. Last night, while waiting 45 minutes for my ride, a very nice guy sympathized (and bewildered) with me about my very late ride. It was made especially meaningful by the fact that he initially commented to me in english (Are you still waiting for your ride?!) but when I responded in french, that remained the language for the rest of our (rather brief) conversation. Again, tonight when Jean-Luc (je pense?) stopped to chat with me, we had a delightful mix of french and english going on. Whenever some stops to talk with me is invariably when my ride shows up. Why can't the chatters stop by earlier on in the waiting period?
A shower, a book, and off to bed. I think I'll be home by 17:30 tomorrow... what am I going to do with myself!?
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3 comments:
Watch the Office. *shrugs*
Do they teach in military time as well as French? I had to use my fingers to figure what time 17:30 is.
Ha, no, that comes from growing up with a mom who is a nurse.
"j'sais pas si c'est de la qualité, but it's done!
I say that with such flippancy to nearly everyone I talk to, and it is true to some degree, but if it wasn't quality at all, there's no way I would ever have allowed myself to print it off and hand it in."
Ah, yes. I don't think I could say it any better myself.
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