The Internet is doubtless all atwitter with the news that my recent all-nighter did not culminate in success in the way I had imagined it would, but rather in failure. Failure of the most deplorable kind. That is to say, a failure to wake up. I hadn't slept for upwards of 40 hours by the time I went to bed Thursday night, thinking foolishly that I would be able to wake up in time for algorithms at 10 AM. How wrong I was. I didn't fall asleep so much as pass out, and when I finally came to, I saw that I had missed class by several hours. It wouldn't have been that big a deal, if the algorithms homework I had worked on the previous night hadn't been due that very class. Attempts to contact the members of the spirit world who run this course were met with static. (Eventually S. V. came through, and wrote me a pleasant email in which he said that I could still turn in the homework for feedback, if I wanted to, but that was little consolation to me.) What a debacle this all-nighter proved to be.
And it's particularly frustrating, because I'm no stranger to all-nighters. Sophomore year of college I would pull all-nighters every chance I got. I don't recall them ending in a trainwreck like this. Ever. There's nothing I can do about it now, so I may as well focus my energies on studying for the midterm and the final, if I am to have any hope at all of coming out of all this alive. I have always maintained that there is nothing more pathetic or infuriating than being able to trace your downfall back to a single mistake, and I fear that this episode will prove to be that mistake for me.
Miserere mei, Deus.
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