Do you ever get to the point where the doing of schoolwork actually galls you? Like, offends you for even existing? Because if it didn't, you could be watching DVDs and taking long baths and sleeping in and watching TV tonight guilt-free?
And the worst part is, this is all I have left to do: a revision portfolio and an annotated bibliography (which was actually due three weeks ago, when I had that black-eyed stomach flu, and I'm hoping that turning it in now doesn't just slay my grade. I really don't think it was that big of a deal, though). So I don't even have a lot of work to do by tomorrow noon. BUT I LOATHE WHAT I HAVE. And then I feel guilty for loathing it when it's so much lighter than my usual end-of-term load.
The tough part, really, is that I have to revise pieces that are good (as far as that goes), but have a couple of really unmanageable flaws each, and I haven't had enough distance/time to see how to fix them. Also, I despair of finding the originals with the professor's comments. They're floating around the piles of books and papers in my room... somewhere.
(Have been sneaking away to work on Black Ribbon. It's a little like having an affair. Weird.)