February 21st, 2009 (10:11 am)
current location:
Work
current mood: aggravated
current song: Face Down by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
I'm tired.
Like, really, really tired.
I'm tired of failing. I'm tired of the pain. I'm tired of those self-righteous idiots who call themselves Journalism majors. And I'm tired of my fucking Spanish professor. I'm also tired of the idiots in my dorm who think they have meningitis. You don't have meningitis, so just stop it >.>
This is not a suicide note, trust me.
So, let's go in order, shall we? Failing. It sucks. I recommend not doing it. Except I can't help it. I went from an A to an F in the course of one quarter. How is this possible? See bitchy/whiny part 4, re: my Spanish prof. Hey, you know what, bitch? We don't speak Spanish very well. That's why we're taking Spanish. To learn it. We have questions that she refuses to answer. Her reply? "You should know it." If I fucking knew it, why would I be asking? If I fucking knew it, I would be fluent and I wouldn't have to take your class. Yeah. That's right. Then I wouldn't be failing. But GUESS WHAT >.< Just, fuck my life. Scholarships and loans and Dean's list goes right down the drain, all because my prof LOST half of our work. Then she blamed US for it. Dammit. -kicks something-
Then, there's the pain. Oh, yeah. Not the emotional that I suffer from everyday (under the unfair hand of my Spanish Prof, Senora Bitch) but the actual physical pain. Greatest thing ever, really. The pain has always been in my wrists, but I thought it was just that usual pain that accompanies you for the rest of your life after you break bones several times too many. Oh no. Because then the pain turned into pain with complete numbness below the elbow. You know, the unpleasant kind that makes you feel like someone is repeatedly stabbing you with tiny needles. After a few days of this (with people convinced I had meningitis, which I did not, idiots) I went to the hospital, only to find out that I'm broken. I have carpal tunnel. Carpal tunnel at 18. CTS sucks. Sucks balls. I have to wear these brace things. My stepdad says it makes me look like a boxer. Great, now everyone's going to be too afraid to date me.
Then there are the Journalism majors. Fuck you Journalism majors. I don't mean "Fuck You" to the good journalism majors. I mean "Fuck you" to the bad ones. You can't write, you can't spell, and you have no grasp of the English language. And please, for the love of God, don't go into education. Our children are already stupid enough without you having a hand in that.
And lastly, to the people in my dorm. I love you all. You're great. But you're all hypochondriacs. Just because three people got meningitis on a green far away from us, you are convinced that since you have a sore neck, you're going to die. You're not going to die. Stop knocking on my door and asking if you should go to the hospital. You don't have meningitis. And if you did, why the fuck are you coming to my room at 3am to give it to me?
Oh, and since we're talking about people in my dorm, to my roommate: Please stop sexiling me. It's great that you and your boyfriend fuck like rabbits, but can you do it when I go to work on the weekends? One, it's awkward. Two, it smells. Three, your boyfriend doesn't shower. Four, he's always there even when you're not. Five, I'm sick of him being there when you're not, asking me when you're going to get back. Six: the two of you do not have meningitis, but sometimes I wish that you would so you'd stop fucking. Maybe I'm just bitter because I'll never have anyone. Because of the goddamn braces on my hands that make me look like a boxer.
Dammit.
Fuck my life.
However, my life isn't as bad as some people.
Go to fmylife.com and enjoy yourself.