My attitude was fine up till now...

Fifteen minutes to midnight and I am so tired and my head aches (not to mention the self-inflicted bruises I've got leftover from Friday, a.k.a the day all coordination left me) and this essay is already overdue and everything I write is crap. I don't want to take another day to finish it, I want it over and I want my friggin life back aready, but that's not going to happen. I'm so sick of this. I feel like everything that I do, that I enjoy and that makes me me to the outside world (everything that keeps me human) gets put on hold when I hole-up to write essays like this, and yes, I can hear you all out there shaking your heads and muttering things about "well, if you'd only planned better...", but right now that's pretty useless. I got out two huge essays this week, plus worked four shifts at two jobs and look after the roommate's cat...that's friggin enough for right now.
And yes, it's only midnight and I could probably stay up the seven hours until class starts and write something, but if what I'm getting down in type right now sucks ass, then how can I hope to continue, let alone finish something worthy of being handed in?
This is the kind of thinking that leads me to conclude things like 'taking an extra day to write this (and making it, therefore, better) will probably save me more marks than I would lose in late penalties'.
Well, my mind is useless now, so I guess I'll just go to bed and get some (probably stressed and therefore restless) sleep. I'll finish the damn thing tomorrow. I promise.