Lines

"I'm going to be dommy", College guy says Tuesday around Midnight. "Get the last of your homework done, and then finish your lines."
They were supposed to be due at Midnight, but we had spent too long chatting, and he feels partially to blame. So he gives me an extension. First he tells me,  "You don't have to do the lines tonight. Just go to bed."
But I am in my I-can-do-anything mood. "No, I'll do them all tonight. I will!"
"Alright, good," is his smiling response.
One hour later, and I am annoyed at myself. It is so late. The word "discipline" becomes hard to concentrate on spelling. Try writing "discipline" 700 times and it will take on new meaning, if not scar you for life.
Every 50 lines, I update College Guy through IM of my progress.
"Go to bed," I tell him. "I'll finish them, but it's going to take me awhile.
"Nah, I want to be here," he says.
Silly boy.
"Can I listen to music whilst I write?" I type. "I did it last time."
"That sounds alright."
"Really? I think it's cheating." I admit.
"Then no, you may not." He returns.
Why must I be so honest?
"600!" I type once I reached that mark. "Go to bed, okay?"
"Bonnie-jo," He types, "The next words out of your mouth had better be '700'."
I sit crosslegged. I lay on my stomach. I keep writing.
 After awhile, it is as though my hand is moving and my brain has stopped. I'm not thinking about the lines. It becomes a purely machanical process.
Finally, it is over, and it is around 2 in the morning. We call each other to say goodnight.
In the morning, I use sissors to cut the 7 pages out of my notebook. Wouldn't want someone to borrow my notes during class and see the things I've been up to!