So, in my last post I brought up the question whether the chaotic state of my blog was a reflection on my life. I have now come to the conclusion that that is indeed the case. I have horrible self discipline and being aware of this fact only makes it more terrifying because deep down (maybe very deep down) I am also a perfectionist.
Now, if I were a rich person (like, let's say our poor trainwreck Britney Spears), the solution here would be quite simple. I'd just hire a personal trainer slash general kick-me-in-the-behind-er. Unfortunately I am not rich and therefore have to resort to more unconventional methods.
As a child, I never had an imaginary friend. I think it is time to get one, although it wouldn't so much be a "friend" as a huge pain in the ass. I think it will be a guy and I shall call him General Buster. Hi Buster!
Buster is 2m tall and weighs a minimum of 100 kg (pure muscle!). He is very scary. Fortunately, as opposed to childhood imaginary friends, Buster takes up little to no space and doesn't have to be fed. I also do not expect other people to be able to see him. He has also served in the Army and has learned to yell at people and make them do stuff they don't really feel like doing. And yell at them some more.
Buster's job description shall be varied. Not only will he make me finally commit myself fully to finishing my thesis, he will also make me prepare my lessons at the KV well in advance, clean and vacuum my apartment once a week, take the stairs instead of the elevator and many, many, many more useful things.
Obviously, I will hate Buster with the passion of a thousand fiery suns. I also hope he succeeds in his mission.
I have given Buster permission to update my blog readers on my progress or lack thereof in an effort to up the embarrassment factor in case I should fail. Welcome to my world, Buster!
PS: I'm not crazy, I promise...
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