Existentialism vs. me: 1/0

I handed in my last paper yesterday. Yippee, right?
How come that whenever you’re doing something you don’t particularly like (that’s a euphemism people), you come up with 1001 better things to do in the blink of an eye? And when that moment arises, nothing seems remotely interesting anymore. Hell, even vacuuming was a more blissful experience last week than it now. Maybe it’s just me? Maybe I’m just having a bad day. You know the kind I’m talking about, when you burn the milk, ruin the sauce, get caught in the rain and make a friend cry, all by accident of course. It’s a day when you spend hours and hours looking at a computer screen in a faint attempt to actually “do” something and nothing substantially is happening. As I sit here eating my carbon-flavored pudding, I keep on wondering: Is this normal? I should get started on my thesis, only three more months to go and I haven’t written a word not even a letter but though this thought is even starting to haunt my dreams I keep on wondering: Is this it? The things I loved to do like reading and writing have now turned against me. Weeks of wallowing in academia have scarred me for life. Once they were fun, but now they are mere modes or torture that consume my every waking minute until all the exhilaration has been sucked out of it and I am left with a pathetic and shrivelled up little heap of plain non-satisfying paper. To end on a more positive note (I am an optimist for god’s sake), carbon-flavored pudding isn’t that bad once you get used to it.