pants.

Yesterday I swore that it would be the last day I spent mostly in my room. It's warmed up in London and after one more essay, I'll finally be done with school, much later, it seems, than everyone else. The one last night finished at 22 pages, the longest essay I have yet written in my somewhat slack college career (by no fault of my own).

So why is it so hard to pull myself together and get my arse out of the door?