I thought, "I'll just do some quick final work on the Par-L action site, and then I'll do my reading for the comps here."  Ha! First, our ISP was down, so I couldn't finish the work I needed to do; I needed access to the 'Net to check and build final links. How long could it be down? I thought to myself.  The answer, though I didn't know it at the time, was that it could be down for hours and hours and hours.

Now, a smart and dedicated student would have taken this as a message from the goddesses of doctoral degrees, and headed to the library with her trusty copy of Max Weber under her arm.  But it's becoming abundantly clear that I'm certainly not all that dedicated.  Smart is yet to be determined, I think. So, I puttered -- did dishes, washed laundry, hung it out to dry, finished unpacking.  And the 'Net was still down.

So, I thought, I'll read that Max Weber guy right here in my own home, and then I'll be able to continue with the work when the ISP decides to restore service.  Well, I tried to read.  I was even somewhat interested, as I was starting with "Politics as a Vocation", one of  Weber's more interesting lectures.  And then I slept.  And slept.  And then I awoke for a moment or three (long enough to determine that the ISP was still down), and then I slept some more.  

Then I woke up, started to read.  And then I was asleep again.  Now, I could do with more sleep.  It's true.  I, unaided by alarm clocks, will sleep nine hours every night, indefinitely.  And I rarely get to bed nine hours before my alarm clock goes off.  So I suppose I'm always operating on less sleep than my body would like.  But, my body is very selective about when it insists on sleeping, in spite of my great plans.

I suppose I could just sleep and sleep and sleep, until I'm finally rested, and by then I'll be panic-stricken about getting the reading done, and the combination fo being well-rested and panicky will put an end to this endless snoozing in the face of Weber. Or Polanyi. Or Marx. Or.. you get the idea.  Somehow, this doesn't seem like the optimal route.

Another option is to determine, once and for all, whether I might actually be a "morning" person.  I could go to bed at 10 pm, wake up at 8 pm (note: this is more than the nine hours my body wants), and then read.  Some people swear their intellects only function before noon.  I've never thought I functioned well before noon in any way, but maybe I'm wrong, and this may be worth trying.  

And, as a last resort, there is trying to read at the library. Or even sitting up in a hard chair at my dining room table.  Maybe it's the comfort factor that's doing me in.  (Though I've never noticed the same problem when reading a mystery novel, for example.  But that was years ago, so who knows?)

I'll have to experiment further.  And I'll have to assume that intellectually asserting that I can do this reading in the afternoon in my own home in comfort is not working out well.  In fact, it will lead me to fail my comps.   "What? You failed? Why? You're smart!", they'll say.  And I'll say, "I'm not all that smart.  If I were, I'd have figured out that reading in air-conditioned, down-cushioned comfort wasn't conducive to my academic future."    

The clock is ticking.  Tomorrow will bring a new approach.   To be continued.

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