She had 5 hours left. She had started the day off with 13, but she wasn't one to plan her time wisely. Pressure was her best motivator. Thus, procrastination was the only route to take until now. 5 hours.
She had awoken at 11 in the morning. Actually, her eyes had been open since 8:30 am, but her mind had remained in a daze until the dog downstairs finally began barking and howling an hour before noon, sensing the sun's peak hour and unsatisfied with its nighttime house arrest.
She stepped into the bathroom. "I have the whole day" she reminded herself, or rather, consoled her anxiety. She finished up her morning toilet routine and washed her hands. So distraught, she forgot to brush her teeth and only realized it when she was halfway done with her breakfast and felt the yogurt stick to her bacteria-lined gums. "Whatever", she said assuring herself one missed day wouldn't cost her a tooth. She always seemed to forget the plaque lining her pair of top front teeth. It was only noticeable when she smiled, which, luckily, was rare. With appearance more important than hygiene to a 16 year old girl, she pushed the thought to a back corner of her mind.
Finished with her food, she went over to the dog. "A walk will clear my mind", she convinced herself. She hooked the leash up to the dog's collar and opened the door, holding tightly to the rope so as to keep the eager pup from running away.
When she returned, it was 1 in the afternoon. She clearly had plenty of time left before she had to sit down and write her essay, but a sudden surge of determination filled her body and she ran up to her room to begin the assignment. She even ignored the incessant barking of the dog who disliked whenever a human being left it's designated area. (The guard dog enjoyed when it's humans were in sight. They were safest then. Who knew what criminals could be lurking in the depths of the unknown top floor?)
With her laptop open to a blank page (her canvas, a poet might call it), she began her thesis. And with each neatly typed thought came her finger on the delete button. After ten minutes, her once idea-filled paper resembled its original state - bare. She reminisced about the beauty of typewriters. At least they can't erase the proof that you tried. Her mind in a boggle, she resorted to frantically writing anything down, unmindful of the incoherence of her words. When she finally came across a thought, one she might, perhaps, consider writing an analysis on, a sense of accomplishment overwhelmed her body and she stopped typing in belief that she had earned a well-deserved break. "Now that I know what I want to write about, I can do the actual writing later", she rationalized. Clearly, the actual writing was the easy part. The collecting of ideas was far more odious, she believed at that moment. And thus began her several hour-long breaks of YouTube and tumblr and all that fancy-shmancy social media we have today. Every passing second reminded her of her essay, and yet with the endless array of perfectly-pixeled page of videos and edited images, the time crunch was simply not enough to distract her from her...distractions.
That girl is me. That girl just wasted 40 minutes writing (and editing!) this. The irony is unmatchable, I know. But come on. Who the hell really wants to write an essay? Especially with only 4 hours left to do it...