One term paper down; one more to go. Getting to that M.Phil inch by inch, even if it kills me to sit still and concentrate during this glorious Irish spring. Case in point: the other day, I went to to school to pretend to get some work done, but was too distracted to accomplish much of anything. I made meaningless tweets; I rocked in my chair; I looked at my friends’ vacation photos on Facebook; I filled the empty writing centre with David Bowie classics; I nibbled at a Bounty bar and wished I’d bought the pain au chocolat instead. Nothing doing. By dinnertime, I was even procrastinating on the Facebook profiles I had yet to browse, so I decided to get back to procrastination basics. Enter a walk home through a St. Stephen’s Green in full spring bloom.
Just one look at the blossoms and what was intended to be a walk home turned into a lounge session in the park, watching the businessmen and tourists stroll on by.
The tree under which I sat while giggling at Diary of a Nobody. Procrastination via literature – who knew?
Teenagers: “My girlfriend is the tallest girlfriend in all the Green!”
A glance down at the petals and I could pretend I was back in Japan.
Looking up through light-dappled tree boughs with a book in my lap; the only thing missing was an apple to munch.
Say hello to my little friend.
By the time the sun began to sink, a stiff breeze whistled through the Green, lifting the flower petals through the air like so many snowflakes. The sky grew too dim for reading, and there was still dinner to be et, travel arrangements to be made. No more time for schoolwork – what a pity. Procrastination mission accomplished.
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