Somewhere off the highway, at the end of a dark street was a modest grey brick house. And just like most other houses on that street, it was completely dark. At least it should have been.
If it were but for one small window in the basement that a light could still be seen.
And it is here in the wee hours of the night that I sit typing this journal because I've hit a writing block in my essay that is due in the morning.

The past week has been nothing short of uneventful, save for getting sick.. I was bed-ridden for the better part of a day. The result of staying up long past a reasonable hour for bed in order to get kick-started on this paper. Didn't work out so well.
In my case, it was so bad that I haven't left this house for the past 4 days trying to get something done. I might've been able to sneak in about 6 hours of sleep in there somewhere. Maybe.
With Thanksgiving quickly creeping up on us, it's hard to believe so much time has passed. I'm looking forward to going home, if I can find a ride. T-T
Even if I don't go (though I'm really hoping I will), I'll likely be spending the week curled up in bed, playing 'catch me' with my sleep.
wish I could stop doing that


*stretch* well, back to work. After I'm done this paper, I'm going on strike. "Down with essays."
'night.