I had a test today in my History of Islam class. I had an hour to study, so I went to the cafe near the creek.

50 noisy 6th graders on a field trip barged in and set up camp. OK, this won’t work.

I hurried over to the library and walked up the stairs to the 3rd floor. This is the floor dedicated to “quiet study”. Everybody knows this is the “quiet study” floor. How could you not know? There are signs EVERYWHERE.

I picked a private desk-booth thingy and began to read. I’ve got 40 minutes before class.

Then I hear two women talking loudly as they are walking past. SIGH. I let it pass. Then I hear their kid, which must be about 2 or 3. The kid starts yelling. OK I’m starting to get a little pissed. The mom tries to shush her kid. I try to tune them out.

The kids runs over to the window and starts banging on the glass and yelling. I shoot the mom a dirty look. I’m really, really getting upset now.

Mom: “Honey be quiet, that man is giving me dirty looks.”

Damn right I’m giving you dirty looks, lady. What the fuck? I’m trying to study, here.

Now she tries to pick up her kid. The kid begins to scream unintelligably.

I can’t take this bullshit any longer. I slam my book closed, throw it in my bookbag, and storm off towards the elevator.

While I’m waiting I can still hear the kid screaming bloody murder. The two women come up behind me. I don’t say a word. The elevator opens. The two women step inside, kid still screaming. I am NOT getting in there with them.

Woman #1: “Have a nice day.”

Woman #2″ “Jerk.”

What the…

I don’t look at them, I don’t say anything.

Am I jerk for expecting quiet on the quiet study floor? Did I overreact?

Comments please

Voice: finish your paper, Tom.

Uuuurrrnnnrrhhhh… shut up… reading….

Voice: it’s due tomorrow, Tom, and it’s getting late.

alsdkfjenadf UHHHHH

Voice: it’s almost midnight, were you going to finish that paper or just take an ‘F’?

OK! OK! ALL RIGHT! FINE!

I can’t ever seem to start my projects early. I always wait until the last minute, then start in. I thrive on the tension, the stress. I feel like my mind is more clear, more focused, and that my writing is much better when I procrastinate.

This English class though, is really messing with my method. Each time we meet we have to show some progress on the paper. First the intro, then an outline, then an anecdote, then some jibber jabber. It’s throwing me off.

Now it’s the day before the paper is due. I’ve got to take all this crap I’ve written in bits and pieces and try to make it all work. Arrrgh, my brain doesn’t work like this. I’m wasting sooo much time rearranging everything. If she would just let me do things my way it would be much better.

Typically I spend several weeks thinking about my topic, doing the research and all the readings, and letting it all sink in. Then the day before it’s due I sit down and crank it all out. Everything is organized in my mind. She’s making me fight my biology.

It’s almost 3am. (Big sigh) I’m a night person, I always have been. My brain wants to stay up late and sleep in. I can’t, I just CAN’T go to bed early. It doesn’t matter how exhausted I am. My natural rhythm has always been between 2am-4am sleeptime and wake up around 10am-Noon. But I fight it. I try to get up early and go to bed early. All this accomplishes is 3 hours of tossing and turning and 5 hours of sleep. I need to quit fighting my body and just accept it.

I hate this crap.