Blagh.
It's freaking one o'clock in the morning and I've only analyzed 1.5 out of 3 poems. I'm so screwed. None of my essay makes sense, anyway. I hate my English class.
My eyes burn, my head is pounding, my wrist hurts and my fingers sting. Gah.
My eyes burn, my head is pounding, my wrist hurts and my fingers sting. Gah.