Dear Lord, What Have I Done?

I am assigned a paper to write. I come up with an idea that I think will fit the criteria but will also be somewhat unique. I hate handing in something that I know the professor has read a thousand times before. So I always try to make it my own. Put my own spin on it.

So I do the research and get some sources. Then I sit down and I write. I slave over a hot keyboard for hours, pounding out an essay. I am reasonably please with it. I like the writing. I like the topic. I find it to a be a nice little paper. I'm proud of the work I've done and I'm happy with the result. I'm all ready to hand it in and have the weight of it off my shoulders.

And then I run into this little speed bump: 

Do I really want to submit this? It is good enough? Is it what the professor wants? Does it fit the guidelines well enough? Do I have all the information I need? Why didn't I just pick a safe topic? Why did I have to make it my own? Why couldn't I have just done it like everybody else? What was I thinking?
But there's no going back. The deadline is to near to start a new paper. I have to tell myself that handing in something that might not be exactly what was asked for is better than not handing in anything at all.
I close my eyes and click the button. I receive the confirmation email that says my paper is out there in the open, exposed to the world. I take a deep breath and wish it luck as it prepares to be judged and used however the professor sees fit.
I know I should be happy that I got it done. Even if it isn't perfect, it's better than a zero.
But that logic does nothing to shake the feeling that somehow, I just gambled my grade away.