The problem with studying

I'm honestly trying to study. Really. I had planned on studying all weekend, because, you know, Chem final on Monday. Turns out my roommate had assumed I'd be wasted with her on Friday, and I don't want to ruin my reputation, so I'll be studying for most of the weekend. If I ace this final all to hell, I get to not re-take it next semester and take Embryology instead. (yeah!) If I do anything less than pretty damn good, I'll be in Chemistry II for the rest of my life. So you'd think that would be some good motivation. And you'd think the library would be conducive to study. And you'd be wrong.
There are magazines and books here. You've heard about the tiny pre-historic people found in Indonesia? Did you know that the helmeted gecko is the only vertebrate that can see color in the dark? I'm reading the Lucifer Principle right now, I can barely put it down; it is a biological account of the problem of evil. NewScientist's current issue is all about drugs and the human propensity to change their state of consciousness and why the U.S. is a pile of shit for starting this ridiculous "war on drugs" and how people should have the right to chemically alter their mind whenever and however they want! (Without infringing upon the rights of others, by, you know, killing them or stealing their money) Mother Earth News has articles on keeping a family cow to produce all of your dairy needs and I think I saw something on the effects of pollution on the reproductive behaviour of native wild species. How the fuck am I supposed to study Chemistry in an environment like this?!
Goddamn.
Oh, and while typing this Attractive-friend-from-third-floor called and asked if I'd like to go hang out and watch a movie. I said I was studying.