I was not what you would call a stellar student in middle school.

Not showing off and not falling behind, I maintained a solid 2.0 GPA and was among the best C students around. Oddly, my parents didn’t find this as promising or as noteworthy as I did.

I was the kid with the Hyper Grafx sweatshirt, black Girbaud jeans and a University of Michigan Starter jacket. Das Efx was in the old-school discman that was the size of a toaster oven, and I was more interested in ping-pong, Sega Genesis and that delicious rectangle cafeteria pizza than figuring out my pre-algebra homework.

Headed for the local high school that had become the epitome of slackerdom, I had an important decision to make: It was either four years of academic mediocrity or a chance to take things up a notch.

I chose a more-rigorous high school, and it was like a swift kick in the ass. Suddenly I went from an hour of homework a night to about six or more hours a night. Needless to say, I had no time for the simple pleasures anymore.

It was next to impossible to fall back on my old modes of procrastination like TV, movies, music and a little gluttony here and there. By the end of the four years, I was burned out, stressed out and in desperate need of some relief.

From time to time I instituted all-out weeks, or even single days of entertainment hedonism to fill my time. In my most impressive displays, I would pack in 10 movies a week, buy six CDs (before Napster) and eat an endless barrage of takeout food.

You may find it odd that I equate food and entertainment with happiness, but they have always been important parts of my existence.

As for these weeks of hedonism, I’m not exactly sure how I paid for them (since I never remember having more than $50 to my name), and I’m not sure why I didn’t gain 20 pounds, but that’s not the point. The point was that I had created a failsafe way to deal with too much work, stress and burnout. In the midst of midterm fever, I offer you this possibility.

Last week I found myself at yet another instance of incredible burnout. Between graduate school and my three jobs, I’m putting in 15 hours a day and nearly 70 hours a week of work. With my new responsibilities, I didn’t quite have time for an entire week of hedonism so I constricted it to a single day.

After getting an early pass from work Friday, I made my way to the movie theater to begin what I thought would be a perfect day.

First up was “Jackass: The Movie.” Sorely mistaking my tolerance for artificial jalapenos, I began my cinematic experience gagging on a pepper that had lodged in my throat. “It’s okay, this is the life,” I told myself as the loud, insecure frat boys behind me proceeded to kick my seat during every funny sequence.

There’s nothing more relaxing after a long week of work than catching some guys jumping through walls or getting attacked by alligators. Johnny Knoxville and crew didn’t disappoint, and although critics will be appalled and mortified by the film, the Jackass crew will laugh all the way to the bank. Never underestimate the money available to those who practice stupidity.

As soon as the final credits on “Jackass” rolled, I made my way to the theater down the hall for a screening of “Punch Drunk Love.” The film was a major letdown, only made tolerable by its discount price. The hullabaloo around Sandler getting an award nomination for the film is baffling since he’s basically portraying the same mentally challenged dimwit that he’s been in each of his films.

The relatively boring film wasn’t too much of a setback to my day of hedonism, as it only clocked in just over an hour and a half. Despite the film’s weakness, there was plenty of time left to indulge.

Walking out of the theater, I had that tired, sick feeling from all the artificial treats I consumed in my three hours at the cinema. I had that glazed Jim Breuer look, and things weren’t going too well. I headed home for a nap and a drink.

My attempt at drinking the new Jack Daniel’s Hard Cola was a massive failure. Not enough of an alcoholic to go for a full-fledged Jack ‘n’ Coke, I took a chance on the malted-beverage version and was disgusted by the results. It was like drinking candy corn and cotton candy, and there wasn’t a state fair anywhere in sight. I made a mental note to never try a malted beverage again.

Besides “Jackass,” the day of hedonism was not going too well.

The night ended with total redemption, however, as I visited Madison’s greatest restaurant, a true gem, Otto’s. Since my only meal of the day was a Pepsi, a Hard Cola and a vat of jalapeno-covered nachos, I was in the mood for a little quality. Perfection awaited me in the form of grilled lamb chops, imported beer, the finest sourdough bread in town and white-chocolate cranberry bread pudding that more than made up for my earlier choking bit with the jalapeno.

Primed to explode with all the food occupying my stomach, I made my way home for about 15 hours of sleep and woke up the next morning with a renewed energy to confront all the hard work that was in front of me.

I had retreated to the hedonistic lifestyle that made high school manageable and my post-graduate work thus far tolerable. I felt ready to take on any assignment, but I figured that I should go to the gym first to burn off the 4500 calories I consumed the night before.

So much for productivity.