I am going to bed because I have written two pages and tomorrow I will write the last.

I have written about the Storm and Stress period, what it means when Lotte cries out, “Klopstock!” and how Werther seeks to be authentic and–without realizing it–isn’t authentic at all.

I need to analyze a difference scene in the novel and I don’t want to pick that one out yet. I’m bored. I’m sick of writing. It’s late and I’d like to sleep.

I have a bandaid on my finger because I cut myself on a metal can lid.

Tomorrow is my last day of class for the week. I swear I will finish my Monday and Tuesday homework by Friday morning so I can have my Friday afternoon and evening for myself.

I’d like to finish The Glass Castle the Barnes and Noble on Friday. I’m on page 83. It’s so darn good. I feel like I should buy it, but since I’m almost done, I’ll just read it at the store.

But I’m not at the weekend yet. I still need to take that darn quiz in my international studies class. And I need to write that page, darnit.

I’ve got this.