12:22am, and no end in sight

I know the Unmasticatable Summer is coming to a close soon. In fact, all that's left is tomorrow (work at the library and the last day of class for the Nameless Summer Program) and Monday before my work-for-pay duties are finally discharged.

But.

It's 12:22am. I have done the following things today:

• Taught a two-hour class
• Made various crisis interventions involving students' group projects and some truly bizarre interpersonal fallout (One student followed me and apologetically ran me to ground while I was trying to escape into a quiet corner to eat lunch. She was right: it was important, it was urgent, and I'm glad she caught me. But sheesh!)
• Agreed to have an extra meeting tomorrow morning to help coach two groups through their final project, because we didn't get to them in class today
• Given a ballad talk to some Wealthy People on behalf of the library
• Written K'zoo conference paper abstract (I got it in a bit after the 5pm deadline due to the student crises and the Wealthy People talk having run over; I so desperately hope it'll still be accepted. If it isn't, maybe I'll just have to gate-crash? There are lots of panels I need to see there this year.)
• Sent numerous complicated emails--some of them painstaking PSYOPS-type things meant to defuse above-mentioned student crises--regarding a smorgasbord of course-related issues.
• Figured out what I'm going to wear tomorrow (a major task when 3/4 of your wardrobe is either in the laundry or needs ironing).

I have the following things yet to do:

• Write another conference abstract
• Grade a set of group presentations and type up comments on said presentations (I promised the class I'd do it, and I also really do need to ensure that I don't have to grade two papers and a group presentation over the weekend)

I am bone-tired. I keep having to stop to look at a blog or walk around a bit or pet Mousie or type up this crap, because I just can't stay focused for very long. The logical thing would be to go to bed. But I don't want to go to bed, because I won't wake up until 7:30 again, and then I'll be screwed. I may just have to give up, anyway. No longer Le Chicken de Spring, I simply cannot manage to pull all-nighters when I've averaged less than 6 hours' sleep per weeknight for nearly six weeks.

I keep telling myself that it'll be over soon, that I can try to tackle my neglected truck, my neglected finances, and/or my neglected dissertation prospectus soon. And maybe even eat a couple-three vegetables and sleep a little. But then Reason kicks in to remind me that I'll still have final course grading to do. And then there are all the required meetings that are suddenly popping up for next week. I'm about two milimeters from telling every person proposing these meetings to do something deeply inappropriate with them, but I can't: none of these meetings are unwarranted, I can't play hooky, and I'm not in a position to angle for re-scheduling.

It's beginning to get depressing. Motivating myself by thinking about the light at the end of the tunnel, only to get to the end of that tunnel and find another one? Definitely starting to grate on the nerves a bit.