Rude Awakenings

Quite a few things are making me feel nauseous this morning- namely, my tendency to oversleep, a certain south street parking ticket, terribly strong coffee, a glaring lack of Christmas presents, and my "weak figure drawing skills". I'll attack them one by one.
I can't even handle how much I oversleep. I've come to expect it every single fucking morning. Whether I have to wake up for class at 8 am or whether I need to get work done on a Saturday, I reset my alarm until I fall back asleep or I never reach consciousness and basically turn it off in my sleep. I am so good at sleeping that I never even wake up. That happened this morning.
Last night, after hours of studying, I set my iTunes alarm for 7 am; plenty of time to get ready sans shower and leave by 7:35 or so for an 8 am final. I woke up this morning, groggy as always, and rolled over to squint at my cell phone clock. oh. my. god. 8:13. What the FUCK. My alarm did absolutely no good. Jumped out of bed- sweatpants, shirt, vest, bag, and slip-ons all somehow found their way on my body. No bra, messy hair, glasses. I was a mess but at least I was out the door and speed walking up my killer hill of a road. I stressed the whole way to my final, partially because I could not seem to walk fast enough and partially because, for all I knew, this final was in a completely different building from the usual classroom. I walked to the usual room anyways, (sigh of relief, there was my class), and sat down in sweaty discomfort to take the test. I couldn't seem to concentrate for ages because I kept berating myself for being so irresponsible. It was over quickly. I didn't do well. I couldn't bring myself to care. Typical.
Next: the tale of the parking ticket.
Actually, I can't bring myself to do the story justice because I've already told it multiple times; suffice to say, I went shopping yesterday, got a lame ass parking ticket the minute before we returned to the car, and ended up lost in North Philly. Takes loads of skill, I know.
The nasty ass coffee is because I'm still a mess and I had to show up at work like this. I doubt they mind, but I feel like shit and needed coffee to clarify my brain. All it's doing is making me jittery. It's not a pleasant coffee experience.
I'm dreading Christmas shopping, not because I dislike the shopping aspect or the desperation of other shoppers (that's just amusing), but because I've realized I just don't have money for anything decent. I'd love to get my family something wonderful, but all the stories about broke college students are true. It's really sad when all I ever spend money on is art supplies, groceries, and bills. I even went shopping yesterday and have absolutely nothing to show for it. I should be so happy that it's the end of the semester, and really I am relieved, but I always end up spending too much money over the holiday, and I probably won't have a job over break. It puts a damper on the whole idea of the holiday, added to the fact that I don't think I believe in the origins of Christmas anymore, leaving me with a completely commercial holiday, which is scary as shit. Enough on that.
Over the semester, I began to develop this secretly cocky attitude about my artistic skills, and even though I ignored the superior thoughts at first, I started entertaining them. Bad idea. I seriously let my head get way too big, maybe because I was just relieved that I wasn't terrible at drawing. OK, so I'm not bad. I'm still not that good. By the time the final project rolled around, a self portrait, I was confident in my skills and spent over six hours on a charcoal composition. I wished it looked more like me, but thought it was a accurate description of the contours of the face, etc... Too bad when it came time for my portfolio review, my professor said, "You know, I never realized you really struggle with figure drawing. I wish I'd realized it sooner." Yeah, you think? I wish you'd realized it sooner, because I let myself get all conceited when really I needed loads more instruction. Gah. I've been having a serious problem with secretly getting too full of myself. It's terrible. I think the reason I feel sick about it isn't cause I'm not as good as I thought, but because I've been acting like such an idiot. Pride comes before... a smack in the face.