There is little to rival the unmerciful wrath of uncooperative technology. All it took was a stray apostrophe to send my assignment into complete disarray. Cue volts of panic, a churning stomach and overwhelming bodily heatwaves. Stripping bare, I'm was left a hot, useless shell, unable to decipher left from right. Welcome to Digital Analytics! A cauldron of stress and useless information, that for some reason I volunteered to take on.
Words I can take. They can be manipulated with a dash of punctuation, or brought to life with an adjective. I can control them. But technology and numbers are forever. They're unforgiving, steadfast as concrete, and wait condescendingly like roadblocks for you to find another way.
The stress induced ride of university is forever filled with tormentors like Digital Analytics. There's no such thing as a free pass, and absolutely no short cuts. It's really a winning combination if you battle the elements of anxiety on a daily basis. It's a sort of dread that wells within you, constantly anticipating the next curveball. Some days it makes sense; I have a public speaking commitment or an assignment due. Other times even talking to someone can cause sweat beads to swell the brim of my METS cap.
The search for sleep is yet another battle ground; one that I am losing tragically. Six hours sleep is a victory, four is a pass and anything less is my version of normal. My head will never rest easy, it's stuck on replay every day of the week. It's filled with useless worries and questions that are impossible to answer in the early hours of the AM. It's unrelenting chaos, and a swill of concerns. Even now, I fear there are too many adjectives written here. Which let's be honest, there definitely is.
But my biggest enemies are time and technology. At the best of times, technology is hardly a foe. It's my playground, and more frequently than not, my connection to the outside. It's ideas, it's new skills, it's my inside track to New York City. This is why I like my relationship with technology to remain uncomplicated. But Digital Analytics is ruining my bundle of solitude and reworking it by attaching a timer. Now when I'm online, I'm on. I'm not drifting through my circles of reprieve; now there are deadlines and symbols I don't understand. There's a reason I quit Japanese.
If data was a piece of art, it would be a permanent marker on a canvas. No combination of watercolours can drown its hideousness. Once it's there, it's in your head forever. Or at least until the assignment is due.
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