(no subject)

[sophistry]

This essay.

I punch it in the face.

I can't focus on anything today, and there's just. So. Much. Information, and no way am I going to be able to condense this into 12 pages. I'm just snailing along.

*resigns self to all-nighter*

Anyway, I've just... I'm so, so sick of moaning, and I'm sure you guys are sick of me too. It's all I've done for the longest time. I'm weary of crying. It's just difficult to find anything to celebrate, recently. I've deleted more than a few posts, and I stare at others as I type, going "Come on. Stfu and update about something happy. Nnnnnnow." I'm doing it right now. But I can't think of anything.

It's... I don't know. A warning against falling into too habitually - Pavlovianly - associating the feeling 'happiness' with any one thing, I guess. 'Cos when it's gone, hooboy.

Oh well. Now I know.

Coffee, then back to work.

Comments

[tornyourdress.livejournal.com]

Caffeine's the way to go. Plus you will have a omg-essay-done high to cheer you up by the morning, and that's always good, right?

[tropes.livejournal.com]

ESSAY WILL BE DONE SOON.

AND THEN.... VE DAHNCE.

[mad-megan.livejournal.com]

The good news is, things will cycle back around and you'll feel great before you know it. :)

[blueeyedtigress.livejournal.com]

"and no way am I going to be able to condense this into 12 pages."

Wait -- has the prof actually specified a font size ...? If not, see, anything can be made to fit onto 12 pages ...

No? Shutting up, right .... %]

[vivien]

I'm not sick of you.

Go Sophie go! You can do it!