Twas The Night Before Hand-In

'Twas the night before hand in, and all through the house,
Not a printer was working, not even my mouse;
All the CAD files done and completed with care,
just another 1:100 and then we'll be there;
its 02:45 and im ready for bed,
but i'm picturing models to make in my head;
Turn to my friend caffeine, at this late hour,
only to wish you had time for a shower;
Uhu in hand the model takes shape,
material choices? make the windows Opaque?;
Then out on the street arose such a clatter,
Oceana girls, one fit, the other fatter;
Longing to be out, a club with Dance and Hip-Hop,
instead stuck in doors with cracked Photoshop;
Illustator slows down maybe not enough RAM,
i'd rather be like this than have an exam;
Precious time left, the screen damaging my sight,
realising i just smoked my last Marlboro light;
The layout and font begin to appear,
shuffling through sketch books ideas become clear;
The morning approaches, we've blazed all night,
thanks to Red Bull the submissions' in sight;
The last file is sent, it begins to plot,
stretching and yawning my body in knots;
The section appears, my re-done crit sheet,
pressure is over, portfolio complete;
Shouting and raisng my hands to the skies,
last print in hand, to my feet i did rise;
Leaving the house, reminiscing the hectic,
did i remember to scale the axonometric?;
I step to the street, and turn to hear,
architects rejoice the hand in is near;
Handed in on time, its the end of the Grief,
until the handout of the next brief.