The Porcelain God and Death

It is 3:19 in the morning. What am I doing, you ask?

I'M DYING.

It all started with finals.... with a particularly nasty assignment called:

The COM 308 research paper, or DEATH- whichever you prefer.

Chunky Monkey was my only reprieve from endless suffering.

I'm in condensed online courses comprised of two sessions in a semester of fast paced 7 week courses.

Needless to say, accelerated courses combined with me art of procrastination spelled disaster from the very beginning.

Being the procrastination goddess, I started my research paper the day before it was due. To my utter horror I discovered that the proposal feedback I had received was not mine, but another student's.

Essentially, I had to write a 10 page research paper with no idea if my topic had even been approved. I cried, I threw tantrums, I swore... but my paper began to take form.

I battled with this book; and diligently wrestled with it for answers... 

as we all know I hadn't been taking notes for my class like I was told to do, 

and therefore, had NO IDEA what I was doing.

Eventually, I got to the point where my brain was fried and I just had to turn in an imperfect piece as I was running out of time.

I was so sick with worry, the stress was eating at my well-being. 

WARNING: I AM ABOUT TO BE REALLY DISGUSTING.

I had only minutes left to submit, but I had to tweak my citations. As I typed in a fevered frenzy, I threw up, IN MY MOUTH, and... I SWALLOWED IT. I did this to finish my paper. I should be considered an academic hero. I had to push the disgusting notion of what I did out of my mind, because I knew that if I thought of it, I would vomit. EVERYWHERE. Also, my paper probably wouldn't get turned in. 

After submitting my paper, I calmly walked to the bathroom and proceeded to worship the porcelain god. If there was ever a classy vomit, that was it. 

BEHOLD, THE PORCELAIN GOD. 

I assumed that since the worst was done, I would move on with my life, the stress would dissipate, and I could celebrate that paper being finished with an episode of Doctor Who.

But, it was not meant to be. 

It soon became apparent that stress was not the source of my woes, but food poisoning.

I worshiped at midnight, at 1:25am, and finally, at 2:30 I decided to stay up. I showered, continued to worship religiously, drank water, worshiped some more, decided to document my zeal at worshiping, and lament. 

KYLIE NEEDS SLEEP. AND ALSO TO STOP WORSHIPING THE PORCELAIN GOD. GAH. 

I will probably never eat fast food again. 

religiously,