The Poster.

So, I had sort of half-assedly done some work on the poster before 10 pm Monday.

Sort of.

And by that, I mean that I had purchased a poster board, poster board supplies, and thought about what my topic, maybe, could possibly be.

But in the real world, that does not actually equate to real work.

Monday night I continued to drag my feet in typical LittleFoot fashion. I cleaned the house some, and I gave the dog a bath. I occasionally spent a few minutes looking up articles and jotting down notes, but not really.

Around midnight I attempted to glue some black butcher paper to my white trifold poster board with modgepodge. This was a bad choice. Everything got soggy and wrinkly, and had to be ripped off. This made a trip to Walmart unavoidable. I had hoped to find a black tri-fold board, but they were sold out of everything but white. Alas, I grabbed some rubber cement and some glue sticks and returned home.

It took me the ENTIRE night to get this damned thing done. The whole thing. Every. Last. Minute.

I took at least 4 baths in an attempt to focus my mind an settle my stomach/nerves. I was not at all successful in this, but at least I was really, REALLY clean.

Twice during the course of the night I attempted to lay down for a power nap. This however, only made the gut-wrenching anxiety worse, and both times ended with me vomiting compulsively for ridiculous blocks of time.

At this point, I've been awake for almost 72 hours. I haven't been consuming anything other than coffee. And I am vomiting up blood. Not tons of blood, but enough for me to know my ulcers are now herniated and my stress level is clearly unreasonable. Not the most pleasant of realizations.

By five in the morning the bulk of the poster was done. Things were formatted and printed, crafty supplies had been assembled, the butcher paper had been appropriately affixed to the poster board, and it was time to go to work.

There was literally no time to assemble the poster.

No problem, I told myself. I'll just leave work extra early and cut/glue this sh*t together in the library before class. Easy peasy.

I arrived at work and immediately broke. My brain just slammed up against the wall of sleep deprivation. I had reached the number of hours I could go without sleeping. I rapidly began unraveling.

Help arrived about 15 minutes behind me in the form of J. Thank the universe for small miracles. I was clearly unwell. Doing that thing where I think I'm talking, but really I'm just moving my lips...J was confused. Anyway, we got all the things ordered, and pushed the orders through. I managed to get through one pull rather quickly, but all this was done in between bouts of throwing up and bursting into tears.

I called my dad, long after I'd fallen off the cliff of reason and sanity, mumbling through clots of tears and snot about how terrible life was, how badly I did NOT WANT TO TURN IN THIS POSTER, how my whole body was convinced the world was ending and I couldn't convince it otherwise, and for gods sake, I just wanted to stop throwing up.

He told me for like the millionth time in the past 48 hours to 'rise above' and I promptly hung up on him. He then text me 'rise above' at least twice over the next half an hour which really, really just broke me.

Dad does this thing, where he finds a mantra, and then just keeps chanting it over and over again. In this case it was 'rise above'. That is initially helpful and I feel like dad is on my side and cheering me on. Then about the fourth time he says it I start to get irritated that he's not even listening anymore and is just spouting out a canned response so that he doesn't have to deal with me anymore. Its mildly irritating, but not world ending. By the millionth time he's said it, I am beyond furious. Seeing red, flames shooting out my ears, going to burn down the world irritated. I text back 'STOP TELLING ME TO RISE ABOVE!!!!!' but managed to leave out all of the profanities and cruel things the angry me wanted to scream, which I thought was a victory.

I then called my boss and asked in my nicest, tear choked voice if I could pretty please be excused for the day due to what can only be described as Acute Failure To Function. He let me go home, and I, for the first time in days, finally fell asleep.

I only got to sleep for about two hours, but it was by far, the best sleep I have ever had in all my life. I woke up feeling better. Still sick. Still vomiting, but much more coherent.

I got to work on my poster, the assembling of which, took me much longer than expected. I got to class almost an hour late, but I got there. I turned the damn thing in. (Which I seriously DID NOT WANT to do.) I ensured that I would actually graduate. (Something I also DID NOT WANT to do.) I read all the other posters. I filled out my critique forms. I ate some food, and I had a ridiculous Buffy fan girl conversation with some other people in my class, and then I left.

I met dad up the road to confirm that despite leaving work in what can only be described as a sleep deprived meltdown, and telling him to stop telling me to rise above, I had in fact completed my work, just like I said I would. No matter how unpleasant doing so may have been.

I felt instantly better upon completing the semester. Now that I was past the point of sabotage, all things were coming up roses. We walked around and bought Bear a ASU sweatshirt for Christmas. We talked about things, and Dad did his best to contain his excitement.

I should have gone home and gone to sleep. If I had been a sane, or even reasonable creature, I would have gone home and gone to sleep. But the Jew was in town, (she was leaving the next day) and there's not a power in the 'verse that will keep me from seeing my friends when they come to town.

We hung out at her sisters place for most of the day, laughing at the state of things. H came home and brought us Zoo Light tickets, so we went and wandered around the zoo for a while. It was basically fantastic. I love her to death. You Dear Friend, and the Jew, have just always been there, for as long as I've been me. Dad thought I should have gone to bed instead, but I just couldn't. It wouldn't have been fair. You guys are awesome and I will drop all things to see you guys whenever you're in town.

I went home, and at some point I drifted off, and sleep was delicious.