This happened this morning: I found out that our short stories were due today in final draft form, contrary to my belief that they are due NEXT Thursday. So I have until Sunday morning to throw together some kind of ending to my pile of words, then I have to go find the instructor's house and deliver my story to his front door, and then resist the temptation to torch the place before I leave.
I gave a little performance in Japanese today. No problem. The shit will hit the fan tomorrow morning at 8:00AM, when I must have a one-on-one Japanese conversation with my instructor. Or, if you will; I will be fucked tomorrow morning when I perform orally for my instructor (okay, okay. Bad taste).
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