Unfortunately, based on a true story

I awake, roll over, lift my head, I am drowsy. 
I’m a Procrastinator, my efforts are lousy.  
My eyes scan the room. Everywhere, binders are stacked.   
I’m a Procrastinator, my weeks off are slack.   

It’s not a shock, me taking my pen on a poetry run 
despite my Chemistry homework not being done.  
It’s on the floor right now, under an unfinished paper 
that’s due tomorrow but will be handed in later. 

It’s the best kind of Monday, the holiday type.
Spending time with my family? I don’t get that hype.
I would rather sleep in, till it is well after noon,
Then languidly emerge from my warm, fleece cocoon.

I can often be very irritable in the morn,
I’m about as delightful as a baby that’s just been born,
That shouldn’t really shock you, especially supposing,
everyone knows I find waking up altogether imposing.

But so far we’ve covered sleep, which is just one issue,
the fact that I’m lazy is not really a breakthrough.
I’ve got much more to tell you, so I shall go on,
at least until something more fun comes along.

Sometimes when something just has to be done,
Since I’m a Procrastinator, I’ll only do some,
that’s just because