The first draft of my senior thesis is due tomorrow and although I'm not exactly behind I'm not exactly ahead either. What this boils down to tonight is me writing frantically for forty-five minute stretches and then taking fifteen minute breaks. If I ever actually get my head in the game it's possible to work indefinitely this way.
My head is not in the game.
So for you enjoyment I thought I'd post a junk food filled poem that I wrote just now.
Oh french fry. Perfect french fry.
Among so unworthy of kin,
how did you end up my din?
Thank you very much.