Late

Was it a week ago? I think it was, yes. Yes, I actually talked about it then, so, the date is correct. Last Monday there was a test in Mesoamerican art class. I did well. Remember that. Just remember that. (Was it really only a Monday ago? It feels so much longer than that...)

This is what I had to write today, in posting up my project for Info Design class (due at 11:00 local time, but turned in 24 minutes after that):

My schedule is a total steaming mess right now, my punctuality in shambles around my ankles. I have this thing. It is last week's assignment. Or a part of it.

https://pretzelizemecapn.wordpress.com/2017/02/14/module-5-projects-2-and-3/

Maybe I shall continue pressing forward, until I catch up. Or maybe I shall abandon it entirely, give up, rejoice in my freedom, and fail the course.

How far are we into the semester? A quarter? A third? Halfway? I have lost all track of time, in this netherworld of constantly being behind. I have forgotten my own name. Am I Tantalus, always seeming to catch up to the assignment only for it to slip away again? Or am I Sisyphus, condemned to live endlessly repeating creating a module, only for the week to reset right as I apparently reach the cusp of the module's completion?

It's probably past the 11:00 due date as I write these words. Like anybody's going to read them anyway.

Oh crap, yeah, it's well past 11:00, I'm way late. Like that's anything new...
15 minutes behind, man I'm 3 weeks behind, or will be if I manage to catch up next week. I mean, I won't be 3 weeks behind by the time I've caught up if I do do that, but I mean, I've got three weeks' worth of work to do if I want to do that. I probably could've gotten a large chunk done catching up just using all the time I've spent rambling here and in my blog post... I am so so so so so so so so so sick of shoes by this point, though. I may vomit. 100 shoes! That's only 50 pairs, but, the way I chose to visualize them, tracking down data pair by pair, only to discover in some instances that no data exist for some shoes. All that just for one of my three methods of visualization; I shudder to begin the other two, even though they're by all accounts easier and by all accounts I do have all the data I collected for those visualizations already. But, like I said. I'm sick of shoes.

I know my true name now at least. I am Icarus, son of Daedalus, and I grew too ambitious in my visualization project. Here I am, drowning in the sea. And the expensive delicate ship has somewhere to go, and sails calmly on.