I Hate Finals, But Then What Else Is New?

It has become increasingly apparent to me that, as the semester draws to a close, I am falling the fuck apart. I had to be corrected on the date and time of two of my finals no less than three separate times, and at the moment the only thing keeping me remembering them is that I've written them down on the message board on my fridge, and on a piece of paper taped above my computer. Thank God the semester is almost over. I can't do this much longer. I need a break, to pull myself together.

And now, if you will excuse me, I must return to my prescheduled panicked panicking about the Russian final, which is due to take place in three hours and fourteen minutes.