I’ll admit that I am a creature of habit. When I wake up, I need my coffee right away, but only after a shower. When I enter a bathroom, I mindlessly check emails and social networking sites on my phone. I am a compulsive drummer, and my kit takes any form I can find. The list goes on and on. Yet, when it comes to studying and practicing, I suppose I’m really more of a “creature of preference”.
Now, If you may, patronize me. Stimulating my creative glands, (which I assume are in existence due to high levels of drainage required in my daily activities) I will now describe this creature in it’s natural habitat:
Large drooping eyes peak out from behind a door. They disappear for a short moment, the door creaks in agony, and suddenly the creature emerges. A fresh cup of french press coffee in hand, it stammers into the room to face the task ahead. Sitting briefly to sit, sip, and remark on its disheveled appearance, the creature exhales with relief as the caffeine begins to do its work. The creature unveils a small device from its pockets, checking the digital clock on its surface. Noting the time available, the creature proceeds to set a series of alarms in the device, each deciding an interval of time in which work will be done on specific tasks. The clock starts, and the creature gets to work.
Exploding into productivity, the creature diligently works to savor every second available in each block of time. Knowing the pain of the alarm as it rings above the tambours of the creature’s musical practice, the drive to make true progress is strong. Frustration and confusion is interrupted by short bursts of glory and breakthrough. Hearing the first alarm, the creature takes a deep breath and calmly moves on to its next objective.
This pattern continues for an hour or two, then is paused for a short break. Again, the creature savors every minute. A strange power, the creature becomes liquid and melts into the nearest comfy chair, only solidifying to absorb another cup of black gold. There is no time for anything but silence and thoughtlessness. Once thoroughly restored, the creature reassembles and strolls into a small quiet room.
Here, books are strewn about. Notes covered in doodles are stacked alongside various writing utensils, orbiting around a laptop computer. The creature sighs, and allows itself only a moment’s thought of what else it could occupy its time with. However, this thought is swiftly stifled, serving no purpose to productivity. Cleaning up a bit, the creature aligns the things around him into neat stacks and lines. It gathers up every book and assignment relevant to the day’s studies, carefully deciding an order that will be the least banal. All this is done to the backdrop of a strictly mood-matched soundtrack, played on vinyl. Once the creature is ready, it sips its coffee and allows the record to finish. Again, the creature savors every morsel. Unfortunately its end is only a new beginning of something entirely opposite, silence and diligent focus. These two factors are dependent on one another for the creature’s proper functioning. The studying begins and ends in a flash, and in a moment’s notice the scene has returned to its messy state. Feeling achieved, the creature sits back in its chair. Becoming as cozy as possible, it returns to liquid form and reflects on the day’s goings on. A sly smirk is found across the creature’s face, from which a yawn slowly emerges. The day is done, and the creature softly accepts the bliss of sleep well won.