You know what it's like to be kicked in the groin? I forgot.
Hmmmm...today was weird. My writing teacher didn't even check our "rough versions of our rough drafts" and I'm glad. Why? That's a very good question. Have a cookie. Sugar or coconut? Just take one before they burn my hands. GODDAMMIT LOOK WHAT YOU DID!!! OK. Go get some paper towels, and clean up this mess. Anyway, I did a crappy job on my paper on corporate time theft, and I need more time because I'm sick. Unfortunately, he WILL be checking in two days, and I still need to write about 3 1/2 more pages. And my sources suck.
I also got my computer science project grade back, and surprisingly I got a 16/20 on it, considering it never worked. Jeez, I'm slipping on my work already, and I'm barely halfway through the quarter. So, now I'm just trying to relax and tune out the bitching that my fellow suitemates are fabricating at an alarming rate.
Here's my style: I'm semi-smart, right? You know me pretty well about now, and I know I can hold my own against Joe "Might be Somebody Someday". I screw around until about midnight, then get all my crap done by one, then screw around till 2, sleep, get up at around 8:20, sleep, get up at 8:30, sleep, get up at 8:40, get pissed off, and arrive at class in a presentable fashion at around 8:55. 15 minutes later, professor walks in, says "oh sorry there was traffic" and holds us 5 minutes late, which forces me to briskly walk to my next class, because I don't run unless I'm being shot at. It's a science, I tell you!!! O ya I'm living at UC Irvine by the way. Sorry if I confused you, but I'm just passive-aggressive like that. Don't hate me.
I'm ok for now, I don't have class until about oh...5 in the evening tomorrow. But I still have a midterm, a presentation, and a rough draft of time theft due on Wednesday. All while my hall descends into varying levels of delusion and madness, and won't stop bitching about it to me. Do I care? No. I know what it's like to be crazy, and I think it's a refreshing way to live your life than being normal. Trust me. They just get scared when change happens. I don't like those kinds of people.
I think I've done enough of late-night babbling for this time period. I'll probably wake up in a few hours and not remember the whole thing happened, then try to piece together the puzzle from angry emails left to me from my friends when I posted stupid comments on their journals.
I also got my computer science project grade back, and surprisingly I got a 16/20 on it, considering it never worked. Jeez, I'm slipping on my work already, and I'm barely halfway through the quarter. So, now I'm just trying to relax and tune out the bitching that my fellow suitemates are fabricating at an alarming rate.
Here's my style: I'm semi-smart, right? You know me pretty well about now, and I know I can hold my own against Joe "Might be Somebody Someday". I screw around until about midnight, then get all my crap done by one, then screw around till 2, sleep, get up at around 8:20, sleep, get up at 8:30, sleep, get up at 8:40, get pissed off, and arrive at class in a presentable fashion at around 8:55. 15 minutes later, professor walks in, says "oh sorry there was traffic" and holds us 5 minutes late, which forces me to briskly walk to my next class, because I don't run unless I'm being shot at. It's a science, I tell you!!! O ya I'm living at UC Irvine by the way. Sorry if I confused you, but I'm just passive-aggressive like that. Don't hate me.
I'm ok for now, I don't have class until about oh...5 in the evening tomorrow. But I still have a midterm, a presentation, and a rough draft of time theft due on Wednesday. All while my hall descends into varying levels of delusion and madness, and won't stop bitching about it to me. Do I care? No. I know what it's like to be crazy, and I think it's a refreshing way to live your life than being normal. Trust me. They just get scared when change happens. I don't like those kinds of people.
I think I've done enough of late-night babbling for this time period. I'll probably wake up in a few hours and not remember the whole thing happened, then try to piece together the puzzle from angry emails left to me from my friends when I posted stupid comments on their journals.