I’m back in the hometown, after a rather tedious week of insomnia, dissertation-induced crying fits and one panic attack on a scale not seen since 2010*. (There was hyperventilating and everything. Say what you like about my lack of tolerance for stress, but when I panic, I commit.)
*I could probably spend the rest of this post ranting about how I am beyond certain that this summer is going to Absolutely. Freaking. Suck, but I think I’d alienate people with the levels of bitterness I seem to currently be capable of. I also can’t disentangle the hormonal part of it from the over-tired part of it from the genuine “someone just give me a one-way-ticket to Peru, stat” part of it. Altogether now: “this Masters thing was your decision!”
So I thought, wait! I can do all this emo shit at home, with free food! I have no room of my own here anymore, so am sleeping on a sofa and living out of my little wheelie suitcase, which my mother likes to move around the house in a game of luggage hide-and-seek. Which is fun until I need clean underwear. But work decided they needed me, which means a 6 a.m. start, but then a nice long commute on the train, that, unlike every other passenger on the 7.20 to London Bridge, I quite enjoy. Mainly ’cause I’m an anti-social bastard who likes travelling purely because it means no-one can bother you or ask you to do things. And earning money again is still a novelty. Even if to earn said money, I must proofread guide dog obituaries (you can laugh, but I nearly cried), amongst other things.
So, now I’ve got your attention – and then lost it again, with my talk of commuting and obituaries for guide dogs – let’s delve into the murky depths of your internet histories.
Everyone does it. Even those who say they don’t, even people who really don’t seem the type – we all do it. And the internet just makes it so much easier.
Procrastinating, that is. (I know what you thought of first. But it’s not that kind of blog. You could message me for some recommendations, though. I’m kidding. Kind of.)
I’m fairly sure that most readers of this blog are students, or are people whose student days are not long behind them, so I know that internet procrastination is not something any of you need help with. The fact that you’re here at all suggests you’re used to scouring the driftwood and tidewrack of the internet.
So what do your internet procrastination habits say about you?
Leaving aside Facebook (’cause that’s a case of goes-without-saying), my procrastination material suggests I’m quite geeky (thank you, xkcd and PhD comics) but also pretty girly – ladies, if you haven’t already, check out Lisa Eldridge. She’s a make-up artist who posts tutorial videos on her website on a regular basis, and she seems really nice too. A couple of other sites that are mostly girl-orientated, but refreshingly smart too, are Jezebel and Hello Giggles. Don’t be put off by the latter’s sickly-sweet name; Zooey Deschanel’s a co-founder, and there’s generally something interesting on there. I can also recommend Sabotage Times, and want to read everything this girl ever writes:
I seem to spend a lot of time on the BBC website – does this mean I’m also really boring? Probably. It’s mainly for recipe-finding and weather-checking purposes. (I have an almost pathological hatred of rain. Yes, I’ve lived in Belfast and Cardiff; no, being repeatedly drenched in something does not improve one’s tolerance for it.)
For someone who is simultaneously bored and depressed by the news, I spend a lot of time scouring the Guardian and Telegraph websites. Rarely am I reading the actual current affairs, I’m more interested in the columnists and what they have to say (I call this “career research” – these people are being paid to have opinions).
And, as an incredibly guilty pleasure, Mail Online. If my day hasn’t contained enough rage, I know it can be remedied here. Oh, the Daily Mail – be more hypocritical and narrow-minded and casually racist, please. If I really want to see red, I have a read of the readers’ comments. It’s scary, sometimes: “people like this actually exist? Oh. Can we do something about them?”
While we’re on shameful admissions – and girls, this one’s for you – please Google “Tube Crush”. It’s a bit stalky and slightly creepy and ethically questionable, but hey, this is the internet. If you’re anything like me (this is going to be awkward if you’re not), you fall hopelessly in lust on average three times per use of public transport. Why do you think I don’t mind this commuting lark? And for the record, I didn’t find Tube Crush myself. Someone else recommended it to me. Honest.
There are many more sites I use for avoiding doing anything useful, but I really don’t want to be here all night. As well as being a geeky, opinionated, full-of-rage creep of a girl, we’d only receive further confirmation that I’m a music-obsessed language nerd with a filthy mind.
Who, if she was a superhero, would probably be “The Procrastinator”. I’d never get anything done, but I’d have an awesome cape.
Musically speaking, have some of this:
And maybe a bit of this too: