Meta-Sonnet: In Which I Rush To Write One For The Sake Of Writing One

As bad things happen all around me, still
I have to at least try to sonnetize
To keep my resolution. I'd be ill
And hate myself for days if compromise
Made this the day I at last failed to post
A sonnet here. Please pardon this, my haste.
Completing these is what I love the most
About my days this year. This seems a waste
Of syllables, this poem, but all I've got
Is seconds, it would seem. And now my brain
Seems to have sunk into a state of rot.
Its liquified and would run down a drain
Were I to hold my head near one and shake.
So now you know what little sense I make.