It is difficult for me to express the current severity of my academic situation.

While I took a break from skipping management class to write my final management paper, in order to write back to my group about our final paper/skit for high Spanish literature and suggest that we request more time to prepare, I found it ironic that as my inbox refreshed after I wrote my group that I found a new message containing an attachment outlining the cumulative paper that I might actually have to write in the event that I bomb this sketch, and reminding the class (and my group), that we will be performing our skit at noon (tomorrow).

A brilliant philosophy professor, whose class I have dropped twice in my career, is failing to sympathize with the facial indications of my situation from across this auxiliary lounge. Won’t you?

This shit is tragic.