europe, the bell jar, and procrastination (again and again)

The essay, using Bakhtin's Heteroglossia in tandem with Beauvoir's Second Sex to examine Robertson Davies' Fifth Business, is NOT coming along nicely. It seems as though no matter how much time i give myself to write or to think, the writer's block inevitably lasts until exactly 27 hours before the essay is due. I then hand the damn thing in 2 hours late. I've begged off work for tommorow, and hopefully after a run at the gym and some cold water on my face I can start thinking anew. for now, i am occupying myself by reading the novel Jonathan lent me by Geoff Dyer, entitled: Yoga for People Who Can't be Bothered to Do It. While reading it, my silly brain can't help but to effectively apply Bakhtin's theories to the text. Why can't I apply the Russian critic to Davies' work!? i am tempted to apply feminist criticism instead, as i know it quite thoroughly. This however seems cheap to me; after all, i did not enroll in university to learn simply and obsessively about feminist literary criticism! i am also doing laundry, and generally coddling myself, which is nice, as malcolm is gone all day today and tommorow, and am blissfully alone.
i am once again trying to dig myself out of my own mess. perhaps this is simply an effect of an ajdusted dosage of Venlafaxine, or perhaps i am on an upswing day. i don't know. i feel compelled to organize my room, reorganize my book collection according to fiction/nonfiction, subject, and author. since i last catalogued my books, i have acquired at least 30 new ones; all of which are lazily strew about my room; on top of my unslept-in bed, crammed on top of other books on the Ikea bookshelf, on my desk, on the floor and (God forbid!) in Malcolm's room.
i also want to vaccume, dust, and coordinate my schoolwork.
my life is generally spent in a daze. for the last 6 years my life has been hazy. i often feel as though i am drunk; incoherent, bleary eyed, confused, my is mind cloudy. every now and then, for a few hours, a few days, and last year for a whole 5 months!, i come up for air, and can see the world as it is. i feel i can do anything, and i possess a ridiculous amount of energy. i see things so clearly, so logically. i a sense i realize that life has, is, passing me by. i am too asleep to catch it. i do the most i can in these times of clarity: i catch up on readings, go for a jog, write, and let go of saddness, grudges, and self-pity. i feel this way right now, but i wonder how long it will be before the bell jar descends again.
good news has come my way, however. my accountant (which is really just Louise, my mother-in-law: sweet, sweet woman) told me that my tax return this year (as i am filing with malcolm) will be so great that i will be able to go to Europe for 4 weeks this summer.
this is the plan:

• fly to Montreal for 2 days and spend it with Troy.
• fly from Montreal to London, and spend 2 days in the museums.
• train from London to Paris (5 days) and then to Marseille (2 days).
• train from Marseille to Munich (2 days) and then to Berlin (4 days), then to Hamburg (1 day).
• train from Hamburg to Copenhagen (3 days).
• boat from Copenhagen to Gdansk and Gdynia (i have no idea how long...4 days?).
• from Gdynia to Warsaw (4 days) to Krakow (3 days) by train.
• from Warsaw to Moscow (7 days) by train.
• fly from Moscow to Amsterdam.
• 2 days in Amsterdam, and then, fly home.

i realize this itinerary is ambitious, but i shall have the funds to do it, and certainly the energy.

a final thought. i am starting to notice the difference between what i reveal in my private journals and what i reveal on this blog. it seems that the expectation of an audience alters what one writes. but this is obvious.