Complaint About Time

If my time were cookies, then the cookie monster would be starving.
I even schedule out my week beforehand and I still cannot even fit in classes.
Of course the re-freezing on the pond may influence some modifications to my pencil-dressed sheet of paper called "Schedule From The Abyss Of Stygian".
I need a sabbatical.
But I'm not burned out.
I'm timed out.

Back in my heyday, I could punctuate time, now time punctuates me.
Dean Moriarty emphasizes that we must know Time. Dean knew it, and he was beatific. I do not know it, and I am glum, and just wanna make my wayward hum.