Motionless Wheel, Nothing Is Real

The world is a horrible place when you're running on 45 minutes of sleep.

This morning I woke up from an all-nighter of writing literary papers and binary case-studies. I figured that I could relax once I got to class... just sit back, relax, and disregard every little thing my professor says.
I just needed one thing. There was a book at the library that I needed to take out to complete a political science assignment. No problem right? Well then, you've never set foot in the Mcgill Library. Its six floors of mazes. I had 20 minutes to find the book and get out. A few wrong turns later, and I was hopelessly lost. So lost that I missed my first class.
After my logic class, I forced a boy in my class to help me with my assignment that is due on Wednesay. In my constant whining that took over his soul for an entire hour, I made him late to his next class.
On the train back into the West Island, my friend broke the news to me that he was returning to his homeland in January. Hit me like a pack of licorice twists. The black ones. That is not the kind of news you divulge to someone who is functioning on 45 minutes of sleep.
On my way home from the train, I thought about my grandmother's brother who is reaching the last leg of his life. He's in the hospital and its a known fact that he's going to croak at some point in the near future. Now hypothetically, if he's going to die anyways, is it so horrible that one would prefer him to die sooner than later, as to dodge certain final exams (hypothetically, remember)?
I ate five pieces of sushi and a baked potato for dinner.
I have to write a ten page paper for wednesday and I haven't even started.
Sigh.... why am I even writing this?
Stupid Julia Stiles who goes to ivy league college and studies english literature and stars in movies during her free time and manages to keep her hair nice and her warbrobe varied.
I'm out.
The End.
Bah.