elegantwaste's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- parrot When I was in third year undergrad I was living with an MBA student named Christine. She's a great person, funny and quiet and nice. She was also insanely brilliant and more motivated to succeed than anyone I've ever met since. Now, in third year, I was going around sleeping with various girls, writing porn, drinking excessively, and going to my classes sometimes but really not paying much attention. Then every night when we saw each other in the kitchen or in the living room, she would ask not "How was your day?" but "Have you had a productive day?" I would be forced to answer "not really." I'm not sure why she kept asking, but in her mind, productive was a synonym of 'good'. But everytime she asked, I would feel guilty about not doing anything, and then do some homework. Now here I am, with piles of work to do. If I want to get ahead of the game I should be devoting all my time to reading and learning my languages and making notes. Instead, today I spent almost two hours playing the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy game. And then I watched QAF. So I've decided to buy a parrot, put a blond wig on it, call it Christine, and train it to ask me if I've had a productive day as soon as I get home. If I ignore it, it should start squalking at me until I open a book. The fear of noise coming from the parrot should shock me into spending all my time (of course keeping in mind mental health breaks and email checks) fucking around. Or maybe I should get a dayplanner. 11:22 p.m. - 2003-09-08 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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