Upping my game...

I called my fabulous brother Kevin yesterday to inquire about the general state of his affairs and, mid conversation, he said,

"You know, your mom is convinced you aren't actually a student over there. She thinks you're a tourist."

I counter that notion, this morning, with Exhibit A:

Needs a shower and some sleep girl.

I'm using this blog, quite obviously, to avoid what us nerdy girls coin, 'The Walk of Shame.' No, not that Walk of Shame, an act far too unsuitable and anti-academic as to be considered in our spheres. This Walk of Shame involves gingerly toting a subpar piece of academic literature to the History office where, upon seizure, it can no longer be edited or defended again.

I haven't showered in more than a day. (Hey, I'm going after said Walk of Shame.) I only slept four hours last night. And I stayed in the 24-hour lab so long the automatic lights keep cutting out.

In other words, my first paper is due at noon today.

I certainly feel like a student as I haphazardly cut and paste quotes, sloppily type in footnotes and frantically try to beat the deadline at a row of computers occupied by three other classmates. (Don't worry, I'm actually done at this point, I just need to revise.)

I actually haven't been out since Halloween - even skipping quiz night - to get this thing done. Surprisingly, I actually started weeks ago. Still, I've spent the last three days chained to the library.

When I ran into my friend and fellow essay slave Deirdre yesterday, she said, 'I dunno. I feel like we should be upping our game or something since this is a master's. But I don't think I'm doing a very good job.'

Indeed, if this is upping my game -- sliding in a finished draft with just an hour to go -- my game was never good to begin with. Though, in my defense, the cards were stacked against me this week. Take for instance, the other factors vying for my affection:

1) The largest Halloween celebration in the world.

2) Washing off the blood from the largest Halloween celebration in the world.

3) Recovering from the largest Halloween celebration in the world.

4) Removing the foot smell from my room.

5) A new Glamour and a new Us Weekly, provided by my favorite fabulousa.

6) A bag of Autumn mix, also provided by Rachel.

7) Supreme Court nominations.

8) The Ann Taylor Loft Fall Sale.

9) The suit-wearing row of Irishmen at the coffee house where I used the Internet to beat the firewall.

10) A lack of overall Internet-osity.

Still, it all has an eery simularity to senior year when I would push my papers to the VERY last second.

And, just like my propensity for procrastination, some things haven't changed a bit.

I inquired of the gentlemen next to me in the library this morning, 'So, what do you guyz think of this whole 2,500 word count thingey.'

Guy #1: Forget it, I'm at 4,000 already.

Guy #2: Yeah, I'm at 3,400.

Me: Whew.

Guy #1: How many do you have?

Me: (lies) Around 5,000.

Actually? Around 7,000. Let's hope that word count thing was just a suggestion.

Still, in case you are curious, there are some fun differences in writing for the British system...

- Quotes are reversed. 'I'm going to use this Glamour to do "research" in the library.'

- Everything has a blasted "ou," neighbours, parlour, etc. Luckily, Microsoft Word is configured to pick it up.

OK, that's all. Fine, they aren't fun. But I just procrastinated another five minutes in the process.

Score!