Actual stream of consciousness

(NOTE: This was written by a slightly sleep-deprived student shortly before midnight. Please do not take this too seriously. Apologies in advance for any lack of coherence. I am not editing any of this- I'm just flailing along.)

The clock in the corner says 11:29 PM and the clock on the desk says 11:33 PM. Most people wouldn't think it's much of a difference, but I'm a student and every second counts. Seconds count if you're submitting a paper with a midnight deadline or sprinting halfway around your school to make it before the late bell because if you get four tardies you get detention for four hours on the weekend and it sucks. And now you're sitting at your desk and trying to remember to sit up straight and not slump (because according to your mother and the Internet, you'll regret it in forty years), and you have writer's block and tons upon tons of inspiration at the same time. Your English rough draft sits in its binder patiently, near-illegible scribbles covering the front and back. Hopefully the teacher won't actually read over these- she'll probably mark you down because of the sheer inability to read anything that's on the paper.

The chapstick from the little round container is too sweet on your tongue, even though it's usually your favorite chapstick for that exact same reason. It tastes like candy but it's 11:33 PM now and it's much too late for that kind of thing (although coffee does sound really great). You know you're supposed to go to bed soon, but you have all these ideas crashing around your head and you have to write them down or you'll stay awake for an hour, staring at the ceiling, wondering how you should phrase this sentence or that, and then you'll pass out at 1:24 in the morning and then complain that you only got four and a half hours of sleep-- oh wait, tomorrow is late start, so you'll get five and a half.

Five and a half hours of sleep, one hour of general getting-ready-ness, seven hours of school, four and a half hours of golf, one hour of general winding-down-ness, and then it's 8:30 and you haven't done any homework except for those chem notes you took in the car. You fall into bed at 12:47 and it's the same cycle all over again until the wonderful, glorious weekend where you can sleep in and slack off.

Now it's 11:38 and you're irritated because you got a 99 on your math test (sometimes you really hate graphing calculators and their stupid exponents that are so awkwardly formatted) and because your mom won't let you start filling out that form for the National Honors Society-

-and now you remember that you're supposed to be emailing your teacher from last year so he can write a letter of recommendation for NHS, although it's really short notice and you hate to bother him because he's really busy (obviously; he's a teacher), but you really really want that letter because if you don't get into this stupid honors program you'll feel like you've failed and every time your genius friends start talking about it you'll think about all the things you would have, could have, should have done and feel guilty all over again...

It's 11:41 and you're reminded of that time last school year when you emailed your math teacher a little past midnight to ask if there were step functions on the algebra final, and I guess emails must show the "sent" time because he said to just go to sleep and then my mom saw it but just laughed and oops, fail.

It's much too late to be up, your family is asleep, your honors application shouts your name, your ring is stuck on your finger because your hands are hot, it's 11:43 and you should really send that email--

PUBLISH POST

Durr

Just a quick update to say I haven't died. D:

It's 11:45 PM and I just finished my chem homework. That pretty much explains why I haven't been blogging AT ALL (and partially because I'm a procrastinator).

Once golf season ends, life will be so much easier. I got home at 7:15! WHAT IS THIS MADNESS.