(no subject)
It's starting again: I don't have enough time to eat, let alone breathe, and the pressure's on to get the work done. As fucking miserable as I feel, I wish I'd slipped into this state maybe a week or a month ago, because then my thesis may have been done by now. At this point, though, all I can do is write like a marathon runner in the library and indulge in simple pleasures like procrastinating on lj for five mins here and there.