four-eyes rella: why i should not be responsible for myself

I always dig my own grave.
I make my bed and lie in it.
I lie down with the dogs.

Today was one of those days where everything goes wrong. AND IT WAS ALL MY FAULT! I have nobody to blame but MEEEE.
Why?
Why oh why do I do this to myself?

Let's start at the beginning. Last night...hmm...no, wait. It all started like seven weeks ago when I first decided to leave writing a paper to the last minute.

Ah yes, the old "I work better under pressure" procrastination strategy.

Anyway, fade to last night. The scene was something like this.

Me: oh dear, i sure wish this paper was done
Ryan: yeah, i wanted to buy us some wine, but...
Me: OKAY IM DONE! (it was a lie!)

So, eleventy bajillion glasses of wine later and yeah. It was bed time.

No worries, I thought,I'll just get up early and finish it in the morning.

Yeah. I did.

5:00am - I hungoveredly rolled out of bed. Literally. Rolled. And I made coffee, and I felt disgusting, but I pulled myself together and finished the thing.

9:00 - I made it to school, all the way to the computer lab, and remembered that it costs ten cents per page.

So I got out my wallet and noticed that I had ZERO CENTS.
NOOOOOO!
I had forgotten to bring any money!
(This also meant no lunch for me.)

As I tried to figure out what to do, I noticed I had an old printer card in my backpack. I tried it out and it had exactly the amount of money I needed on it to print the thing.

So I did, with ten minutes to go before the class started.

I sat at the computer, and decided that maybe I should give one last look at the paper outline, you know, just to be sure.

Yeah, you know, the outline I hadn't looked at for weeks before I started writing the thing.

The one I probably should have looked at a hundred times and actually read once or twice and you know, followed the instructions.

Oh. No.

I looked at it. And it turns out I wrote the paper on the wrong thing. It was like a scene out of a (kind of lame) nightmare. My stomach dropped and tears came to my eyes.

Anyway I thought and thought, and I realized all was not lost. It wasn't technically due until 4 in the afternoon, so I could attend all the classes and still have 2 hours left to fix the mess I had gotten myself into and somehow magically turn it into a masterpiece.

Except...I just spent my last money on printing the wrong paper!

Oh, woe was me. To the max.

So I played my damsel in distress card and called Ryan who laughed at me and then agreed to drive the 20 minutes to my school to bring me three dollars so I could print everything I needed.

9:30 - Relieved but still worried because I wasn't sure if I could pull it off, I went to class.

10:30 - during my hour break I ran to the library and did some frantic research, eventually finding something that fit into the basic framework of the paper I already had, which was good.

Then, just as I was getting into the whole 'writing an emergency paper at a hectic pace while simultaneously pulling my hair out' flow it was time to go to my next class.

11:30 - I packed up all my biznasss and went to class.

Which was unmistakably absent one professor.
We were all "WHAT THE EFF?" because we were supposed to receive our take-home final exam. So we waited and waited, because WHAT THE EFF? and then a guy came in and was all "hey didn't you guys get the e-mail? there's no class today." and we were all like "nope, didn't get it. P.S. WHY ARE YOU HERE if you got the e-mail?" and it turns out he just wanted to make sure? Anyway it was weird.

So uhm. yeah. Waste of time, much?

By then we had all been sitting there for like half of the class, and only had half an hour until an exam that like 15 of us were about to write. So we just stayed in the classroom and went over all this literature that we were about to be tested on.

I debated going back to the library to work on the paper because the deadline was absolutely looming, but
*sigh*
I hadn't studied for the exam and really needed to glean some info from the other students.

12:30 Exam time.we went to the classroom and got ready to write. Our prof came in and said we had something to do after the test, so we should stick around.
I got all huffy about it because HELLOOOOO, PAPER TO FIX! Doesn't she know I have somewhere to be?

Then the effing test consisted of phrases that were found within the stories we had to read. We had to name the story, the author, and explain why the phrase was important.
It had things like a street name, "crocodile wallet", and "putting laxatives in coffee" which, if you didn't read the story and pretty much memorize it word for word, you wouldn't know.

I was done early. I'm always finished exams quickly because I don't obsess over the things I don't know; if I don't know it, I don't know it. And I'm a fast reader. And I'm used to writing things off the top of my head. (Thanks, blog!)

So I sat there and waited for the slowpokes to finish.

Oh, hey, did I mention I was hung over all day too? And really hungry by this time?

Anyway so I waited until every single person finished their stupid exam and you know what the 'thing we had to do' was?

A freaking Christmas party!

My prof pulled a bunch of egg nog out of her purse, plastic cups and some kind of cake/bread thing. I assume it was delicious because she's from Italy and I'm racist and think Italians know everything about food for some reason.

Anyway by this time I was over the moon with anxiety, which might be an oxymoron but I'm not sure. I just wanted to get the eff out of there and finish the paper already! GEEZ!

So I marched to the front of the class and kind of rudely asked if that was all we were doing.

She said yes and I was soooo outta there. I even refused to take some cake thing with me.

Hm, now that I'm here in my story I've realized that it's sort of anticlimactic. I finished the paper, Ryan showed up with three dollars in loonies for me, and I ran into the computer lab which had line-ups to use the computers.

But the wheelchair accessible computer did not have a line.

Yeah. I used it.

What? It was an emergency.

I stood, kind of hovering over it, because if I sat in a chair in front of it that would be official that I was using the wheelchair computer, and that would be wrong, right? I was trying to look inconspicuous even though I was the only person standing up in the entire room. Also, the desk was really low so this was even more awkward than it should have been.

So then basically I handed it in on time while Ryan was waiting in the parking lot for me that whole time, and so he basically wins the best boyfriend on earth award today.

Then we went home and watched Escape From New York, which is horrible except for the chandelier car. The car made it all worth while.