The wheels have begun to fly off . . .

Earlier today, I was the calmest, most relaxed person. I'm under the gun academically, but I haven't been one bit concerned about whether or when all of these assignments were going to be completed. I've done absolutely no research; instead, I've devoted the majority of my free time to watching sporting events, either in person or on television. I haven't really been drinking, just in case I decided to start writing--inebriated prose is generally best left to the likes of published authors.

Today I had a rather pointless meeting with Cyn and E. I think we were only pretending that we were meeting for the presentation--after all, who the fuck meets at a bar and grill to do homework? I watched them eat, and we talked very generally about our presentation for Tuesday. E looked like she hadn't slept in three weeks, which made me feel kinda bad, until I realized that she's doing all of this to herself. Maybe someday she'll learn to organize her time a bit more effectively--perhaps I could serve as a model. But back to the "meeting"--I really tried to sound interested, but I didn't have any paperwork in front of me, and I really have no idea how to setup a syllabus, much less present said syllabus to a class full of my colleagues. So I was pretty fucking worthless. And then I saw that the Mavs pregame was on, and I knew that it was time to call this meeting to a close. So I guess things are up to the other two members of our illustrious group, unless of course someone emails me something to let me know what I need to do to contribute.

So I left there and head home, where I watch the Mavs pull off a rather unlikely victory. During the game, I was flipping through the channels and saw that the Rangers and Indians were playing--the rest of the evening was spent going back and forth. The Rangers won 7-5, so it's been a good sports day. (Not to mention the morning which was spent watching the NFL draft). Tomorrow is NASCAR, but I probably won't watch any other sports besides that.

Anyway, the last game ended about 9:00, and I finally decide to come sit in front of the computer and seriously get started on some lame-ass paper for Shakespeare. I sit down, start shuffling through my papers, and begin the process of deciding exactly what I want to write about. But it's just not going to happen. Why? Because my wife invited one of the neighbors' children to play with my daughter and son in my house at 9:00 at night. Besides all of the unnecessary screaming and running and banging and squealing, it's been relatively quiet--practically an ideal situation to write a research paper. My fucking earplugs (which I often wear when my family is still awake and I'm working) seem to be powerless in overcoming the cacophonous racket eminating from around me. This is really fucking up my game plan. Of all fucking nights, why does this one have to be the day we turn our house into fucking Ronald McDonald land? Son of a bitch.

Now I'm faced with two choices: try to fight through it, or go to bed and start tomorrow. I really don't think doing either is a good idea right now.