I'm so close to finishing this paper, I just need to do it. And I know I'll only feel worse in the coming days, so I think I need to caffienate, buckle down, and get it done. I can already feel my heart pumping against my back. That's how I know I'm really sick. (So I probably shouldn't caffienate. Maybe just half a can of Diet Pepsi.)
Then I have another paper, double the size, that I need to research tomorrow. Plus class and work. But at least it's my late day, where I don't have to get up until 10:00am. I already warned my boss I might end up calling in tomorrow, and I'm making sure I Lysol my workstation when I leave.
I just hope I can get everything done. No late assignments allowed in my Capstone class. I think. I guess I can hand in mediocre work. The paper is what really matters.
73 days. If I don't manage this, I'm done. No matter what, I'm leaving in January. (I wish this were true. I would stay another semester. And I would hate myself for it. But I think I'll hate myself no matter what. I may actually respect myself for once if I finish this semester with passing grades.)
And then Portland. (Or Tigard, really. That's where my future apartment is.) And all the Netflix and video games I want. A decent income, finally. My own space, in a gorgeous city. Rain. Hiking. More rain. Rain every day. Every goddamn beautiful day.
Let's make this paper my bitch tonight.