If Time is the great destroyer of human aspirations, cruelly laying bare lofty ideals to be empty shells; Inertia, the great disabler of actions, must be its twin sister. A silent seductress, it sneaks up upon one and gently enfolds you in its embrace, lulling one into a false sense of complacency. Then when you wake and attempt to flee, Inertia tightens the noose and its vice-like grip, a paralysis that requires extreme willpower or panic-induced franticness to overcome.
After all, it's always easier to go,' Oh there's always tomorrow'. And with tomorrow comes another tomorrow. And the strangehold tightens. I was supposed to have started the revision on Monday. Keyword here of course being supposed. As usual my favourite mistress, Inertia, had to keep me busy with everything else other than work. Procrastination, a luxury we can ill afford but often liberally pamper ourselves with.
With great determination, I have resolved to start tomorrow because I'll need the less than 3 weeks to master the basics (ie: pass) for the 6 subjects. And I have no intention of being gripped by panic-fuelled paralysis at the eleventh hour, when the full import of the I-am-so-fucking-screwed realisation sets in and end up like this:
I so fucking hate studying for exams. Rather go back to work anytime. Sigggghhhhhhhh.