Several Sundays ago, I began the task of completing my weekend's school assignments. I grudgingly sat down at my table, cracked open my textbook, slapped open my calculator, slid my pencil between my fingers, ran the fingers of my other hand through my hair, and stared blankly at the sheet in front of me. "[Expletive Deleted]," I mumbled to myself, "I really do not want to do this." This particular assignment would not be turned in on time, nor would any of the assignments for the evening. However, I did manage to make it through four consecutive episodes of Futurama before I retired to bed.