10 minutes ago, I deleted my Youtube account and vowed to embark on a journey of soul-cleansing and re-self-discovery.
Let me tell you this - for 2 years, I have been a faithful Youtube user. It all started when Jobo sent me a Naruto episode via MSN (when I was addicted to chatting, of course) and I was struck by the wonders of the Internet. I looked up Kenshin and had 96 episodes of beauty open up to me. My "total number of videos watched" count climbed up to 3,500 in my first few months.
I was 14.
This is totally not to something written to be funny. Of course, a lot of people could be reading this and laughing their heads off, but it's been really difficult. Already, I'm regretting my decision. People don't realize how hard it is to be working and resist the urge to take a 5 minute break to watch a little video.... and then that 5 minutes turns into 30, and then an hour, and then 2 and then 6.
Only today, I was chatting with a friend, who wrote, "Since when have you become a fan girl?" And then I had an epiphany - I was a fan girl. What were my hobbies? When was the last time I hung out with anyone? I've realized how much of my academic life was wasted away, and I've decided to do something about it. I could very well be sleeping at 10, or using those hours wasted and still sleep at 3/4 but be productive enough to use my good brain.
So begins day 1 of my withdrawal, and the beginning of my "Overcoming an Addiction" series of this blog. Believe me, I am not being melodramatic. My friends will know how serious I am about this.
SY 2007;
a momentous year. ISM decides to strip its High School field of its natural green grass and replace it with super-turf that will never need cutting, watering or management whatsoever! Yes, the new astro-turf is here, where athlete's game-spit will shine forever and ever on the plastic blades of grass - unwashed and totally unnatural! No ants, no bugs, no fresh smell, and a bonus burning sensation when skidding across the field!
Heehee, I bet it's more flammable now that's it made of plastic.
Ana, Chiara and I went to the "Friday Night Lights" game on Friday the 7th (September). We spent the entire game trying to figure out which side was which, and then made fun of ourselves because we were so stupid.
Good times. Bad field, though, for those who haven't understood a word I've just said - it smells like sweat when you go near. ... Thank god I'm not athletic...
So. 500,000,000 years later, I come back.
I am stressed. I am in junior year. I am a full IB (International Baccalaureate) candidate. I can spell "baccalaureate" without any help. I know twice the things I did in 9th grade, but I feel fat, stupid and stressed. This is what I feel doing right now.
When you've regressed to the state where you're sitting in front of the computer wasting away precious time on pointless blogs eating home-baked cookies (yum) with milk (good too) while the functions of ellipses and double-curves await me at my desk (haha, it switched to first person without me knowing... that's how numb my brain has gotten) you know you need help.
Serious help.
I've just completed my psych notes on Freud, who was a very dirty, indecent old man. But a brilliant guy. I'm officially calling the devil on my shoulder the id, and from now on, whenever that little guy takes over, it's not my fault. If I go to sleep now, I'LL BLAME THE ID. If I eat all the cookies on the kitchen table, I'LL BLAME THE ID. If I watch Youtube (oh god... just writing it here makes me want to cry or... rock myself) I'LL BLAME THE F---ING ID.
So ends the 23rd day of September, year 2007.
