after twenty-one years, i realize i still don't know the limits of my body.

you'd think that after six long months of 8-hour workdays i'd know by now that it's almost impossible for me to do more work at home after spending all day at "work." but i guess i'll never learn. i worked all day yesterday and i thought i'd still be able to push myself and finish the concrete lab report. but i was in bed by nine. i tried to wake up at four this morning to do it but it was so cold that i decided i'd be a happier soul if i just went back to bed. and i did. i was warm enough to keep myself happy but i had zero lab done.

so now i ask myself. what's the point? what's the point of planning things when i know there's very little chance that i'll actually do it?

so today i left work early. i'm hoping to get myself rested and maybe spend about an hour doing the lab then go to school and work on the project. hopefully i'll be all good and well for tomorrow's presentation and the concrete final this friday. i'm hoping for the best.