Too close for comfort

This cheeky chappy was outside my bedroom window on the fire escape this morning. As close to me as my dissertation/thesis submission deadline, on a scale of 2 inches per day. 

Plagiarised (well, copied) from my Facebook wall - read and weep, or laugh.

"As anyone who is at school with me can tell you, for the last two months I have gone to the library at the end of each and every working day, until the library closes at 21.00, to write up my MA dissertation(UK) thesis(US) on Teacher Evaluation, having completed the research a while ago. Sometimes on Saturday afternoons too. As I approach the submission deadline (next Sunday) I have noticed recently a kind of metamorphosis of mind and body.... as I seem to transmogrify into one of my Upper Sixth (UK) Seniors (US) Lise 12 (Turkey), yet cruelly with none of the advantages of being 18. Symptoms began with noticeable weight increase specifically around my middle, from hours and hours on my backside as I sit and don't write anything worth saving, while sneakily eating comfort and carbohydrate laden food cos I have no time to cook and eat "properly". The flat is a disgrace - not that final year students usually do housework of course, but like I said, none of the advantages of being 18... This afternoon I knew that the transformation was almost complete when I burst in to tears and shouted at my cat because I couldn't turn some of my research data into a chart using Excel. Tears upon tears till my neighbour brought me a six pack of beer. Feeling better now, and half watching Midsomer Murders on TV, but contemplating bunking school tomorrow. The final stage in the transformation is that I may be wearing inappropriately tight clothing to school before the week is out. You have been warned."

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