I don't want to do this fucking assignment. I cannot FUCKING concentrate on it. Do you think I really give a damn about poetry explication or analysis in contemporary American Literature right now? But I have no choice. I have to. I have to because it's my goddamn final and counts for 25% of my semester grade. An A+, an A-, and a B+ might save my semester grade with a C if I botch this thing, but I still have to try. So sure. I'll pretend like a give a fuck about analyzing every word in that poem, or about the attitude of two of the primary characters in a play after their father commits suicide, or about women's rights in Victorian America.

The thing is, I do give a fuck. I give a very big fuck; school is my life. But right now I simply cannot push myself to want to do well. My professor was kind enough to grant me a two-day extension but I still have to finish the fucking thing by Friday because I refuse to spend my weekend smacking my head against a wall because I don't have the ability to concentrate. My professor knows I do good work, normally; he's seen how I write and knows I don't "slide by." Besides, he saw me in his office yesterday; I'm very aware I look like shit all doped up like I am. But hey, it keeps me from randomly flipping the fuck out.

So yeah. Let's just get this over with a soon as possible and turn the damn thing in. It's not going to be "A" material, but for once in my life I don't care about that. Isn't it great? The only time I am not a perfectionist is when I am going nuts.