The truth is, I'm supposed to be finishing the last touches on the first chapter of my thesis right now. But, even from hundreds of miles away, that mischevious little nymph known to many as Sarah has convinced me that I need to enter the world of the bloggers. It's after midnight, I'm fixing footnotes, looking for quotes that aren't where they are supposed to be and tyring to attach images. I will have something to turn in by 10am tomorrow. I'm past the point of being able to say if what I am writing is quality or merely words to fill up space. The most pressing, and perhaps disturbing, question is, why didn't I finish this sooner? By sooner I mean any point previous to now. By this point in a person's education shouldn't they have learned through painful experience that procrastination and all nighters aren't all they're cracked up to be?
