[DEB]
Here's my room at school, right?
Where I keep tucked away
Virginia Woolf and me
This is where we stay

Modern lit is dense, right?
But everything's okay
I'm working on my thesis
Every day

Now, since my laptop's verging on collapse
I keep longhand notes and Xerox scraps
In a hand-bound book that drips with old school flair

But this unique approach can be a drag
When you keep the whole thing in your bag
And suddenly, the goddamn thing's not there

It's not there
It's not there
It's not there
It's not there
It's not there
It's not there
It's not there

Dear Professor Thompson
This is Deb; you're my advisor
I am writing you to ask a little favor—

(She considers this, hits backspace, re-types a better word:)

...question
I know when we first met
You made it very, very clear
That under no circumstances
Be they medical, emotional
Familial or chronic
Could we ever, ever turn in something late

But, dear Professor Thompson
I've a little situation
And I'm hoping you will show
A little mercy on me
And grant me an extension on the first draft of my thesis

Yours...

(She backspaces, re-types:)
Thanks in advance...

(She backspaces, re-types:)

Hugs?

...Shit