It Was Late One Evening

No education is complete without a little healthy procrastination. I had a mid-term essay due this morning, and I didn't start it until Tuesday. Why did I do that you may ask? I could come up with a whole list of excuses--both acceptable and not--but no one really needs to know the reason why it happened that way, only that it did happen that way. I have a theory, or a formula really. The formula is thus:

The Amount of stress is directly proportional to the level of procrastination.

The night was young, the wind was blowing, and it was time for my Relief Society Tuesday Night Activity (formerly know as Enrichment which was formerly known as Home Making). I did my duty, as one only should. I took my roommate some leftover cake and trail mix and discovered that Big Rig (aka Nate) has a fantastic Scottish accent (this is not relevant to my story). Then said roommate and I decided that we needed to support our fellow students in their performance of Pinocchio. Enough said. Then it was back to the dorm to work on our infamous essays. But wait. There were volleyball games at the institute. Shouldn't we support our fellow brothers and sisters in their athletic endeavors? Yes, of course we should. Only ten minutes we promised ourselves. Only ten. Oh how quickly ten can turn into sixty. That was the last straw, we had to do our essays. Back to the dorms.

A phone call: "Yes, Stephanie Spencer, please come to our dorm and work on your essay with us! It is only right to support each other in these hard times." We wrote for twenty minutes straight, then we needed a break. Yes, a break. Why not? This break deserves a chicken sandwich! A chicken sandwich was had by all, as was a dancing to Perry Como and "Pumpkin Soup" and a quick game of Ninja Destruction (which I lost).

Now on to the essays! It must be done. We worked long and hard, burning the midnight oil, bemoaning our hard fate. Hours later resulted in several break downs:

1.Nick Barney texting Lora stuck just as we were in a thoughtless stupor before our laptops.

2.Stephanie nearly crying.

3. Lora needing someone to read and reread her thesis statement. Nothing was making sense by that point.

4. Me throwing my pen in frustration. Lora concluded that I needed to sit in my closet, so she tossed out all the shoes so I could sit in there and think. (Interestingly enough, that worked quite well).

By 2 a.m. Lora called it quits, as did Nick Barney. Stephanie stayed until 2:30. Lora texted me at 2:30 from across the room telling me that she couldn't sleep. I continued to work. By 3:00 I was sure I was hallucinating, and I finally finished after 3:30. By 4:00 my teeth were brushed, my sleepers were on, and a few verses of scripture were read. Close to 5:00 I finally drifted off to sleep. I was out of bed by 7:15. In the shower I was still hallucinating, and I vaguely remember convincing myself that I had just cut my finger off with my razor. Thankfully I still have all ten fingers. It's been a long day, and it's still going.

Believe it or not, this face was completely by accident. Oh what a horrid face.