writing self-portrait

I'm sitting at my kitchen table, working on my paper. The corners of my lips are turned down, my brows, furrowed. There might be a tear or two on my cheeks, there might not be. Who knows? I'm certainly not smiling. My paper is probably fine, but it'll be a week before I look at it and smile. I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to do well.
I've been sitting here for three hours. My eyes are drooping a little. I should probably go to bed, but I told myself I would write my conclusion tonight so that's what I'm going to do. I'm slouching completely. I'm beyond stressed out. But then, I type the final period. I breathe a sigh of relief and shut my computer so I can go sleep.