(no subject)
I don't think I've mentioned this much yet, even with how mind-numbingly furious I am towards it.
So, only a few weeks or something after school got out this summer, I received a bunch of packets and papers in the mail, all to do with my upcoming high school classes. I got a boring assignment for Chemistry, shit to write for History, and a whole frigging PORTFOLIO to make for English. Both the History assignment and the English one came equipped with a list of books we could choose from/had to read in order to complete them.
I'm not one to exaggerate.
That History book was boring as ALL HELL. My mother, an avid book-reader like myself, fell asleep within five fucking minutes of trying to read it.
There is also the matter of when Mr. Schaefer assigned the damned thing. Sometime in late June, I believe, and we of ourse had to buy the book ourselves. It was a really obscure thing, some detailed explanation on the Black Plague, so we had to order it online- couldn't find it in any bookstores.
'Course, it took about a frigging month to finally ship in, I don't know what the fuck the hold up was about.
And guess when the lovely paper was due?
July 29th.
All total, that gave me a time frame of six days to read this long-ass book and write a paper dissecting it.
GOODBYE, rest of summer vacation: I now have no free time left.
So anyway, I'm busting my ass between writing that paper decently and doing long, endless hours of marching band drills, and becoming a stress magnet as well.
I finally get it done, just in time, about two hours before Wednesday is over and my first grade of the yet-to-start semester becomes a zero, and exhaustedly email it over to my douchebag of a professor, along with a little apologetic note that I worked hard on it but it was still pretty boring as essays go, and to have a nice rest of the summer vacation.
I was in a fairly good mood before I checked my email just now.
I open it up, and my eye is caught on an email from Mr. Schaefer.
"I sincerely hope that your paper is better than your attitude towards it."
That's it. No, "Thank you for being a good sport and putting up with this shitty schoolwork assignment when it is supposed to be your time off." No, "Essays are always boring; at least you tried your hardest." Apparently, he hasn't even read it yet, so nothing telling me whether I got all of those one hundred and twenty points or not.
Ha. Ha ha. I... am ready to break something right now. Like his neck.
I think it is time to use that new swearword I created to show my pain, and perhaps add some onto it.
FUCKWADSHITTINGDOUCHEBAGBITCHPISSINGFAGGOTDAMNHIMTOFUCKINGASSHELLSONOFAWHORE
So, only a few weeks or something after school got out this summer, I received a bunch of packets and papers in the mail, all to do with my upcoming high school classes. I got a boring assignment for Chemistry, shit to write for History, and a whole frigging PORTFOLIO to make for English. Both the History assignment and the English one came equipped with a list of books we could choose from/had to read in order to complete them.
I'm not one to exaggerate.
That History book was boring as ALL HELL. My mother, an avid book-reader like myself, fell asleep within five fucking minutes of trying to read it.
There is also the matter of when Mr. Schaefer assigned the damned thing. Sometime in late June, I believe, and we of ourse had to buy the book ourselves. It was a really obscure thing, some detailed explanation on the Black Plague, so we had to order it online- couldn't find it in any bookstores.
'Course, it took about a frigging month to finally ship in, I don't know what the fuck the hold up was about.
And guess when the lovely paper was due?
July 29th.
All total, that gave me a time frame of six days to read this long-ass book and write a paper dissecting it.
GOODBYE, rest of summer vacation: I now have no free time left.
So anyway, I'm busting my ass between writing that paper decently and doing long, endless hours of marching band drills, and becoming a stress magnet as well.
I finally get it done, just in time, about two hours before Wednesday is over and my first grade of the yet-to-start semester becomes a zero, and exhaustedly email it over to my douchebag of a professor, along with a little apologetic note that I worked hard on it but it was still pretty boring as essays go, and to have a nice rest of the summer vacation.
I was in a fairly good mood before I checked my email just now.
I open it up, and my eye is caught on an email from Mr. Schaefer.
"I sincerely hope that your paper is better than your attitude towards it."
That's it. No, "Thank you for being a good sport and putting up with this shitty schoolwork assignment when it is supposed to be your time off." No, "Essays are always boring; at least you tried your hardest." Apparently, he hasn't even read it yet, so nothing telling me whether I got all of those one hundred and twenty points or not.
Ha. Ha ha. I... am ready to break something right now. Like his neck.
I think it is time to use that new swearword I created to show my pain, and perhaps add some onto it.
FUCKWADSHITTINGDOUCHEBAGBITCHPISSINGFAGGOTDAMNHIMTOFUCKINGASSHELLSONOFAWHORE