stoopbeck

So. I have a paper due tonight. Tonight. Yes.

I actually did better than usual... I already had three pages written. Problem, though: those three pages were written last week when my oh-so-fickle muse descended upon me and made me write three hilarious pages of text. Next morning when I woke up, I discovered a note upon my desk:

Hey, Alex! Yeah, I know, I'm leaving you in the lurch. Oh, well! It's kinda cold here, so I'm going someplace warm... Don't worry, I should be back in time before you have to turn in that paper. You can count on me!

Love, Your Muse

Somewhat disturbed but nevertheless reassured, I waited for Muse's return. It hasn't happened yet.

So here I am, trying desperately to BS my way through to the end, knowing that is is crap in comparison to the brilliant first half, but powerless in the loss of my muse. Dangit, muse, get back here... I need you!