A little embarrassed, a little humbled

I'm not a drug addict or any other morally degrading member of society, but I've pretty much been a total sloth the past month or so. To clarify, sloth:

What it is: Sloth is the avoidance of physical or spiritual work

Why you do it: You’re shiftless, lazy and good fer nuthin’

Your punishment in Hell will be: You’ll be thrown into snake pits

Here's the synopsis over the past few months: going to bed no earlier than midnight, waking up around 730am, getting to work no sooner than 9:15 (with an 8:30 start time), putting off important work projects for more menial tasks like sending out DHL's and submitting entries for publications awards contests, heading out of town every few weeks to play, doing no school work until the weekend (usually Sunday night) , and spending most of my evenings at home parked on the couch with a couple glasses of wine while stalking people on MySpace or reading perezhilton.com.

Sounds lovely, doesn't it? But in reality it has negatively influenced my school and professional work, and as someone who is hoping to get a lotta cash for my fall semester AND finagle my way into an overseas consultant position with my company, this is NOT the way to go.

It all came to a head last night. I'm only 1 of 3 graduate students in my class. Our prof. returned a homework assignment, one that I had spent a significant amount of time on (or so I thought), but somehow still jacked it up and got the equivalent of a C. I was LIVID. How could I have f-ed up so royally, when I thought I had tried so hard? How could I have confused a simple task in Excel, a program I used EVERY DAY FOR FOUR YEARS at work? How could 20-year-olds HAVE DONE BETTER THAN ME?!

Needless to say, I wanted to end it. Not really, but I was on the verge of tears/punching the wall. I couldn't believe I had made such a simple mistake. The tears ended up surfacing on the cab ride home. I'm not really sure why self-disappointment brings me to tears (especially at a time when 33 people were just brutally murdered). But it did. And I was there, in a cab, crying.

So what did I do? I called my daddy! Yup, this independent, working woman/graduate student who has traveled alone in West Africa, lived alone for 3 years, doesn't like to go home...can't keep it together when she receives a shitty grade on a homework assignment and has to call her daddy.

After talking me down from the ledge, and building me up like any good father would do...("you've achieved everything you've ever wanted to do, even to the point of turning things down....you are working so hard, much harder than many other students, b/c of your work, travel....you will recover next week and get a perfect grade...you are remarkable, bla bla..."), I felt much better.

So, in the end I realized that I REAAALLLLLY need to get my shit back on track. I know that this was just a slump and that we all go through it. I know that I am not this person most of the time, and I just need motivate and keep going...hopefully without the silly tears and whining to daddy, and end up in the place where I hope to be in the next few years...which is certainly not in a snake pit.