The fall semester has begun and my executive dysfunction is seriously bothering me.
I’m currently being screwed over by my lapse in planning during class registration last semester. At that point, I somehow thought that I could take only one history class in the fall. Upon arriving at school, I remembered that I actually need a major and perhaps I should check up on the major requirements, and I discovered that I’m seriously behind in terms of history coursework. Additionally, I kind of want an education correlate in case I decide to go into special education or a similar field.
This means that I’m scrambling to register for new classes, which takes up a lot of my time, and if I get into new classes I’ll be behind on the readings for those classes, and I’ll have to catch up, which will take up a lot more of my time.
I should have planned for this last semester. I should have known I would need more history classes. I should have signed up to get field work credit for the volunteer work I did over the summer. I shouldn’t be writing this post right now.
I’d forgotten how much work I do at college. I have to work to make myself work. This might sound frivolous and lazy, as though I just can’t muster up the willpower to overcome a hedonistic urge to enjoy myself when I should be working. In fact, if you were to check up on me while I’m attempting to make myself do work, you would find me in distress as I attempt to focus on a task but somehow always end up doing something else. The guilt and anxiety that this produces are problems in their own right, and the worse I feel the harder it is for me to focus. Can you spot a pattern here? If you picked “downward spiral,” you’re correct.
As I write this, I am looking at the pile of clothing that I have yet to fold and put away, the bags I haven’t unpacked, the bookshelf I haven’t assembled. As I write this, I should be doing my German exercises, or reading for my history class. Yet somehow I ended up writing this, almost without noticing that I was beginning to do something counterproductive.
Maybe in a few days things will be sorted out. Maybe I’ll find new classes. Maybe this semester won’t end with gloom and doom and late papers in every class and the academic apocalypse. Maybe I’ll learn to get things done on time. Maybe I’ll get more control of my life. Until then, I’ll be playing catch-up. Again.