Didn’t you know it? This was going to go down to the wire
Every word was being counted, but the paper still wasn’t long enough
And he still had to organize his bibliography
Disheveled notes cluttered the floor beneath his desk
Littered with disparate ideas he was trying to weave into a coherent narrative
It almost made him cry when he thought of it.
Not getting it done would make him cry even more, though, so he kept typing
Eventually, he submitted it and began to pray. It was late, but maybe Doc wouldn’t notice