It's official: I fail.

Utterly, completely, never-has-there-been-so-much fail. Okay, here's the thing. And man, I apologize in advance for sounding like such a whiner.

I have managed to get zilch done.

I'm still (!) working on the story about the girl falling for Piscean guys. I have given myself until Columbus Day to finish it. Well, guess what's in over 24 hours and what hasn't been finished yet?

Atop that, I have a paper for Women and Lit that is about 80% finished and yet it feels like it's made of concentrated idiocy. It's due Monday.

My sickness persists... in a dry cough that has pulled a chest muscle. I wish I was kidding.

I haven't finished my readings and it continues to get worse, piling up to Leaning Tower of Pisa-like extravagance.

~

These are the times that I wish time can be halted just so I can catch up. But when should I just give up and let it go? Go ahead and fall over, fail a little? Not that this would be deserving of me, but an eventual outcome.

Perhaps I should suck it up and make a schedule.

Either way, man, I gotta do more than laze around on the Internet.

~

ETA: On a lighter note, check out my favorite song at the moment.