You are not your LiveJournal.

This is the end of the twenty minute break I just took. Twenty-five after this. And I haven't even finished the first short story yet, for smegssake. Though it's going to be a nicely rounded off 2,5-600 words which is awesome when I thought I could only push it to 1,500. Less work on the rest of them. Less work on the rest of it in general given how late it is and how much I still have to do.

I'm much more chilled about it all right now though. I think I've passed the point of guilt and the point where everything went wrong (which it did) and the point where I was ready to quit and I've reached the point where I know I'm going to be typing for the next ten or so hours and awake for at least the next twelve, so I'm resigned to my fate. Oddly, I think I'm actually slightly more organised than last year. At least I know what to write this year. Which is good, since I don't have any more tennis slash I could submit at the last minute.

The Bible-slash is tempting but no. Must. Not. Risk. It. Besides, I wrote it so long ago it's probably crap.

Downside is that I forgot to do a chocolate run. So depressed about this. May actually fail from lack of chocolate. So instead I'm going to go and watch the Hot Fuzz trailer one more time and get back to work. Then get some coffee before the next story.

On the plus side I've realised I can access my second harddrive from the guest account on the keyboardless computer, which means I can watch the 100GB of stuff off it tomorrow when I'm ded from work. Yay!

edit: Back to say that we have another fish fatality. Gonzo's been looking awful for days and I was going to have to do something about it tomorrow if he was still around but I just glanced across and he's definitely gone. Even though it's a relief when he hasn't been right for months, I'm still more upset than with Rizzo. Rizzo was technically K's; Gonzo was mine. Even though I looked after them both, Gonzo was my favourite.

This is, most definitely, One of Those Days.

edit: One story down. Baffled as to why it ended up 3,425 words (and a little annoyed at some of the Labyrinth similarities that crept in, though it's goblins in a *carnival*, it should be completely different. That said, I'm going to put a Labyrinth quote at the beginning because then the similarities aren't copying, they're a homage. Mwaha.) That said, it makes my life a little easier because I can keep the next three shorter. Much shorter in fact, which is excellent.

Not so excellent is the fact that it's 3am already and I need to be starting the critical stuff by at least 6am. It was meant to be five but yeah, not likely. It's looking more and more like some things won't actually be finished. Though you know. Just like last year.

Right. Finished with the goblins. Onto the space pirates! (What, you thought I'd have to write this much on something *boring*?)

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The space pirates ended up 3,067 words instead of 2,000 and I have cramp in my leg from sitting on the windowsill. On the plus side, this means I don't (not that I had time anyway) have to rewrite the fourth story. I can just tack a couple of hundred words more onto the vampire-werewolf one (I did mention I write crazy original stories right?) and be done. It'll take me half an hour if I rush.

Less reassuring is that I still have 5,000 words of critical stuff to do... and the ones I did last year that I was intending to look at for help remembering how to write them? Are on the account I can't get to. Because my keyboard is broken. Yeah.

On the plus side I saw a hedgehog in the carpark earlier. Cutest thing ever.

Cup of tea and critical stuff. >_< I just have to talk about myself for most of it. It can't take that long. Please god, don't take that long. I need to be printing finished stuff out by 10am. Four hours.

edit: I meant to ask, do you think it's bad that an 8,000 word portfolio is only going to have three short stories in it? Two finished and one the start of something longer. Not that I can change it now but still.

Then again, it's not a specifically short story portfolio, it's a *writing* portfolio. I think. It should be okay.

edit: *twitches* It's 9am and I still have a self critique and two peer critiques to do. Not to mention I haven't read anything through or printed it out yet. I have finally, genuinely left something far too late. Deadline's at 12 but I need to have to printed and ready to go at about 11:20 at the latest, since I need to buy another folder on the way.

Jesus. I'm so insane for doing this myself.

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I did it. Some unbelievable how, I did it. I was literally still writing less an hour before the deadline with nothing printed out and I made the good ten-minute fast walk up to main campus in five at a run, just in time to be loomed over by the woman collecting all the portfolios as I scribbled coversheets. I forgot the novel summary for 304 but I explained myself kind of in the self-critique and I'm hoping it doesn't matter. It doesn't have page numbers or a contents either because of said looming woman, while the others have handwritten contents and numbers and are badly hole-punched into the folders and half the critiques are two hundred words underlength and I submitted a first draft to make up the last 1,000 words of my 303 which still only ended up being 7,500 words but I'm probably prouder of the space pirates story than anything original I've ever written, so I'm clinging to that as a good thing. (I keep hitting ctrl s automatically now, I've been doing it so much this week). I'm convinced something has gone horribly wrong, especially with 305 which felt far, far too thin but seemed to have all the pieces and I cannot make my brain function to discover what went wrong. I can't believe I ran all the way to campus. I can't believe I actually got something even vaguely resembling portfolios in. Emma who I know from first year was there with me and just as stressed, which I think was the only thing that stopped me freaking out when the woman loomed. Writing coversheets takes a good five minutes and does not count as last minute finishing, kthnx!

Dead now. Dead liek whoa. Shower and steal someone's milk for cereal because I have none and then sleep. Only, not for long because I have to start reading Shakespeare tomorrow.

God. I'm stuck in a weird limbo of not believing it's really over. ...Of course, it won't be if I fail *touch wood*. It's not over until the fat lady sings. Or my parents kill me for failing the year, that'd be pretty final too.

edit: No! Curses on my sleep deprived rambling! I originally started this post as a heartfelt thank you to all the peoplewhomIhaven'trepliedtoyet who reassured me and told me I'd make it and general didn't hunt me and down and kill me for spamming their flists with my panicking. If we could dedicate our portfolios, mine would've been "To all my awesome LJ people."

Now awesome LJ people. Fetch me cookies! ;)