Tuesday, March 18, 2008


I instilled in myself a sense of false security by typing up some preliminary notes for the article I have due tomorrow so I could enjoy tonight's Vines concert/St. Patrick's Day with a clear conscience. But the hangover is settling in and I only have 900 out of 1800 words written.

Pain pain pain.

I should have just finished it all last night like I had planned, but I can't seem to get things done unless the pressure is bearing down on me. I'm a masochist. What can I say?



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