Today is Thursday, and I am coming to the sickening realisation that I am so very screwed.

This weekend I'm supposed to go to a conference in Michigan to present a poster on the language-evolution work we did for Game Theory this semester. The poster is not done. It will need to get done by tonight so that it can get printed tomorrow if it's going to get printed at all.

I was supposed to do a presentation next Wednesday for my databases seminar, on the project I've been doing at work. This would all be well and good, except for the fact that the prof emailed me last night and said "The middle of finals week is bad for everyone; can we do this on Friday?" Not thinking, I said, "Okay, sure."

And then there's the code I have to finish for my Automated Reasoning class -- this code which is so very close to done, it is basically done in SML, but it has to be done in OCaml and translating it is not exactly easy, particularly given the vagaries of the objects we're working with. I know for a fact that if I could sit down and just fiddle with it in the interpreter for about three hours straight I could sort it all out, but it's not actually due due until next Wednesday when we have to present, and my brain keeps saying "No! Don't do that right now! You need to prep for Friday and this weekend!" But, of course, every time I think that, the guy I'm working with on the project keeps emailing me with some other asinine "I can't get thus-and-such to work right" question and kills my train of thought and just argh, argh, argh.

It's enough to make me want to pull the covers back over my head and go to sleep until the end of the semester, except it's a bit warm in here for that, and the rabbit keeps making noises.

I guess I could skip the conference, though doing that would mean I'd be out $50; the department has offered to reimburse me $200 worth of expenses, which will actually take care of my two days' worth of travel just fine, since the hotel is $50 and most of my meals are already being paid for. Losing $50 at this point isn't going to kill me, although my share of the rent is about to double because prysmicdork is moving out in late June and I haven't found anyone else to move in yet.

So. This is how I am giving the finger to function paralysis. This is me emailing Dr. Segre to find out where I can get the poster printed when it's done. This is me getting up, getting a shower, and going to my office hours, where I'll hack on the OCaml code, hackety hackety hack. This is me reviewing my students for their final, then going up to the lab and getting the poster done. This is me going to the ACM meeting at 5:30 to get dinner and relax my head for a bit. This is me going back to the lab and doing the presentation slides and making holes for the extra data-mining stuff which I will fill in when I get to work on Friday morning and have access to the Witten and Frank book again. This is me pounding on the OCaml until it's done, fucking done, and going home and getting six hours of sleep (averaging that with the eleven I got last night) and going to work and finishing the presentation and rocking the house for Dr. Lawrence.

Whatever doesn't kill me, &c., &c.

Shit. I think one of the boards in my box spring just broke.