Screaming Cold

When the temperatures drop, my voice raises.
I scream when I get into a cold car.
It is just what I do.

When Stats is way to fast, I scramble to write.
I figure it out in my head.
It is just what I do.

When my pencil creates something other than what I pictured, I frustrate.
I alter and beautify.
It is just what I do.

When tomorrow morning looms, I pay no mind to the time.
I exhaust my already exhausted body.
It is just what I do.