My Mom takes a cursory interest on how I handle my schoolwork at best. She came to the realization long ago that fretting about my procrastination is probably the least productive worrying that she can do. As I spoke to her last night at about ten, I yawned into the phone, “I have to start the work on my presentation for tomorrow morning.”
“I hate it when you tell me things like that,” she replied dryly.
Apathy is my friend and cohort when comes to the repercussions of procrastination. As I sat down to give my presentation this morning bleary-eyed from watching TV too late more so than staying up and doing homework, I spread my hands on the table and thought back to my tried and true axiom in high school, “What’s the worst that could happen?”
And the presentation, on a wing and riding on a breath of a prayer, went smashingly in contrast to the spiral of hatred I thought I was going to encounter. Ayn Rand tends to bring out that chorus of negative sentiment, and I’m a wee bit sad that there was more nodding than indignation, even though I got to throw in the line that Ayn Rand “seems to have beef with Jesus.” Even against PhDboy I seemed to hold my own, to which he noted after class that he enjoyed that I had veritably “brought it” via my Rand arguments. (Hey, hey!)
In my second class, Camille (who comments here, but who I won’t out just in case, enthusiastically requested if she could make up a codename for herself) asked me if I bought into Rand completely. Like I mentioned to J and to which Camille spoke to in class, Rand holds up a mirror for examining how altruistic our motives are, but I don’t completely buy the idea that all men are islands unto themselves. Rand’s writing tends to not seem very clear to me and her explanations are a bit muddled…but I did run across her writings after I had issues with being told how condescending I am with my knowledge experimentation [Hi HWSNBN.] so being told that I should be proud of my accomplishments, that pride isn’t always a bad thing, and that without that sense of pride I’m not really going to progress any further, was really something I resonated with.
PhDboy then sat down next to Camille and again, “I read your blog…you know.” He nodded slowly, “Who’s calling me inconsistent?” After I stated I was leaving the party nameless, he laughed and just said that being inconsistent made him “more complex.”
“I read that too,” said Camille and jokingly said, “And I now like you less.”
I laughed, “You’re a mini Internet celebrity. Like Roger.”
PhDboy looked pleased for a split second until he blinked, “Roger the horse?”