I am a loser geek crazy with an evil streak

Under twelve hours now until paper deadline. Back to wanting to slit my wrists. I've been going through some of marythefan's M*A*S*H links in a spectacular but unsurprising display of avoidance and wow does that fic break your heart. Also, of *all* the fandoms to smush names pairing names together in cutesy ways? Hawkeye and Trapper have CANONICALLY, in the CANON, been referred to as "PierceIntyre." I'm just saying, I don't think Dumbledore is going to be absently addressing anyone as "Snarry" any of these days.

Me: why did i just open a tab for a story described as "Harry/Snape. Lupin/Snape. Harry/Lupin/Snape."?
silentfire: *puts a hand to your forehead*

And after months of being squicked at the mere thought of Snape having sex, I just read A Choriambic Progression and liked it. Fannish crackwhore AT YOUR SERVICE. *leer*

Once more with name-that-song! Everyone who's awake should PLAY.

1. I'm not a left-wing rhetoric mobilizing force of one
2. now it's your time to follow through, to read the signs
3. get up and see the sarcasm in my eyes Robbie Williams, Millennium -leksa
4. any place but those I know by heart Gin Blossoms, Follow You Down -silentfire
5. if you love it, you might really love it The Cure, Just Say Yes -malelia_honu
6. bring your Swiss army knife and a bottle of something
7. I can play the guitar like a motherfucking riot Sublime, What I Got -silentfire
8. all your life you were only waiting for this moment to arise The Beatles, Blackbird -silentfire
9. last week it was funny, but now the joke's wearing thin Ben Folds Five, Steven's Last Night In Town -silentfire
10. you break the chains or you'll smother Primitive Radio Gods, Skin Turns Blue -malelia_honu
11. here by intervention I want your attention Duran Duran, Too Much Information -malelia_honu
12. I'm gonna use your tongue as a stamp Jewel, Daddy -lafemmepapillon
13. brain stem! brain stem! Pinky & The Brain, The Parts of the Brain -silentfire
14. and I feel that I could learn to hate just like you Flickerstick, Beautiful -silentfire
15. I could hang myself on treason, all the folks I know are gone Modest Mouse, This Devil's Workday -malelia_honu
16. coffee in the morning and martinis at night Billy Joel, When In Rome -vongroovy
17. but the man at the door he told me no Save Ferris, Under 21 -silentfire
18. you know it's clear that I've been blind I've been a fool David Gray, Babylon -silentfire
19. from now on I only tell lies Jump, Little Children, Secrets -silentfire
20. nobody was really sure if he was from the House of Lords The Beatles, A Day in the Life -silentfire
21. there's no need to feel protective when you're getting all you want
22. and then I go outside and join the others, I am the others Dar Williams, As Cool As I Am -silentfire
23. wish I could lay your arms down and let you rest at last Once More With Feeling, Standing In The Way -vongroovy
24. Saturday wait and Sunday always comes too late The Cure, Friday I'm In Love -silentfire
25. nothing's gonna change my world Fiona Apple, Across The Universe -silentfire
26. they call us irresponsible, write us off the page Starship, We Built This City -silentfire
27. ask her why a dreamer dreams she never dies Oasis, Champagne Supernova -silentfire
28. life is skittles and life is beer Tom Lehrer, Poisoning Pigeons in the Park -vongroovy
29. they like the punk and the metal bands The Bangles, Walk Like An Egyptian -plumsnickety
30. you'll say the world has come between us Deep Blue Something, Breakfast at Tiffany's -silentfire

the dreams in which I'm dying are the best I've ever had

I am in a paper-writing nightmare and I want to wake up. To sum up: the paper was due at two p.m. this afternoon, and it's . . . past that now. The paper is late. Also? The paper is not done. Plus? There is no actual point to the paper. And? I've been writing it basically on things I've been making up, rather than the couple of months worth of primary-source research that technically it's supposed to be all about. The paper I can't write at the last minute? I'VE FINALLY FOUND IT.

I've been up all night; I slept between eight and nine-thirty this morning. I had cereal at six in the morning, at which time I broke a bottle of wine that fell out of the refrigerator while I was trying to wrest the milk off the door. I didn't eat again until S. tentatively knocked on the door at a little before seven tonight to say she'd cooked for us and there was plenty of food. So, I ate. We ate, and we laughed a lot, and I came back into my room and felt the flutterings of a panic attack just looking at the books—the unread books—stacked on my desk. Here I am.

The paper stands at thirteen and a half pages, generously counted; it should be about twenty. I have said, really, nothing, and it's not very surprising that I can't really think of anything else to say. The major problem here, the real root of the problem, is not having done the work all semester. Other, minor contributing factors include: picking a topic I really don't care about it, since I couldn't come up with one I did; not pulling bullshit together in at least a timely fashion; and my self-destructiveness, which has apparently just realized it was stuffed in a box that never locked and has burst out to eat me alive.

Here's what I would like to do. Make up another six pages. Of anything, anything that will pass for anything at all. Turn this in sometime in the very near future in the hopes that it will be accepted at all, and for as little grade-docking as possible. Because I have never failed a class. My grades at the moment stand as: As, one B (for being an idiot in Anthro of Religion), and two Ws (for withdrawing from Japanese History this Fall and Philosophy of Language the same semester as the Anthro class; that was not my semester, and nor is this one). The grade in this class, the Seminar Paper of Doom class, is distributed as follows: 30% participation (she could be generous here, or not; I always came to class, but was sometimes ten to fifteen minutes late to the three-hour bloc; I sometimes talked, but I don't think I ever had anything useful to say; I am an active listener, which gives the impression of participating more than I actually have), 30% reaction papers for the books we read (on which I *might* have averaged a B, but it might be lower than that; I actually legitimately forgot to hand in the last one this past Tuesday, and she, unsurprisingly, was not about to accept my half-hoping attempt to email it to her last night), and 40% final paper. This paper. The one that's a day late and unfinished and also not good. I would fail this paper, I think, were I grading it. I am concerned about my grade, truly and deeply concerned. I also, if you follow me, know I do not deserve anything other than failing. I would like to wake up. I would like to throw up, and I want to go to sleep for days and days, waking far away from here in time and place. Instead there will be something like finishing, I hope I *hope*, and some kind of humiliating confrontation with my professor, going more or less badly, I feel, and possibly hysterical crying before or during or after, and I'm shaking in my chair from the cold seeping through my window and sleep-deprivation and self-loathing. There is nothing like imagining yourself into a train and then watching from a distance as it crashes spectacularly. I would like to be watching from a distance.

This is where I parallel self-handicapping with alcoholism again, even though I don't know if I actually have a right to that. But, I self-handicap because I don't know what I do to succeed; that is, I think I am setting myself up for failure, but each time I do not fail. I have now, I hope, hit something not like a rock bottom, but like actual failure, and the problem now is the alcoholic's: without alcohol, what am I supposed to do? I have no study skills; I don't know how to research; I have only instincts and whatever I have always done. I don't know what has always worked, and when it stops working (that would be now), I don't know what I'm supposed to change to fix it. Except, of course, everything.