RFP.

Dec. 15th, 2004 05:42 am
letterblade: (finals)
[personal profile] letterblade
Requisite Finals Post.

So at the moment, I'm doing well, I think. Barely slept since Sunday, but still managing decently well as far as the whole staying alive and sane deal. Plan of attack: catnaps and plenty of food to keep the old dynamo running in some bizarre parody of normalcy.

Current status:

Final project for music class: choreographing, performing, and writing commentary upon the Sacrifical Dance from the Rite of Spring. DONE. And, I must say, dancing that dance on one hour of sleep and not only surviving but doing it well is something I'm damn proud of. *prances* I did, however, kill my back, which may not make the whole moving thing very happy.

Final project for lit class: retelling of Korah's rebellion a la Kis' biblical stories. A little more than halfway done, due tomorrow (er, crap, today) at five. This is the one thing I'm much worried about. Kis is tough in any context, much less trying to write an imitation.

Rewrite #1 for essays class: If I'm counting that as the one that's nearly done, then it's nearly done. Mujah! Due today at two.

Rewrite #2: Will take a bit of work cranking it out, but I think I'm okay, assuming I've finally settled on something. *twitch* Ditto due date.

Then all I need to worry about are a few niggling things like my winter address and my course registration. Oh, and, packing my 928374273642635645 tons of crap in less than twenty-four hours. *TWITCH*

So Mum has decided she's going to pick me up in the early afternoon, get to some hotel in the Berkshires before it's dark, sleep there for the night, and go to a yarn shop the next day. She must be planning some hard-core yarn-shopping. But I suspect the following scene shall take place:

Me, upon spotting hotel room bed at four in the afternoon: GERONI*THUD*

Mum, two hours later: Um, dinner?

Me: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Mum, fourteen hours later: Um, breakfast?

Me: zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Mum, sixteen hours later: Okay, we're going to the yarn shop. *turfs out of bed*

Me: zzzzzzzzzzzzmmmmyarnzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
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