in a rant sort of mood. that kind of day.
You know when your math teacher tells you about the Naval Academy and he's talking about how you have to memorize three news articles everyday along with all the other stuff you do, so you just learn to juggle things, and just lose a bit here to catch up there and try to ignore the fact that you are dying and so on?
Well, no, you probably don't, because your math teacher probably is not some crazy loon who decided to go to the Naval Academy, but still.
THE POINT is that junior year is killing me and I shouldn't even be typing into this little box, because the following things are about to shoot me down with an AK-47 (not neccesarily in order, because if I knew how to order things that would mean I would know time management, which I clearly don't): Euro (although it's brilliant), Statistics (who knew?), physics (oh dear god shoot me), Oratory (Shalene, what does it have to do again? Could you give me the reqs?), piano (when my teacher comes back from Florida i am so DEAD), and, um... well, that's it. And wow, I'm cringing from the bad grammar of the previous sentence.
And this is, I swear, the last pity-me entry. About junior year academics, I mean. It's been a very oh-woe-is-me sort of day, thank you all for putting up with it, you amazing, wonderful friends.
Alright. Deep breath. Time to do work.
Well, no, you probably don't, because your math teacher probably is not some crazy loon who decided to go to the Naval Academy, but still.
THE POINT is that junior year is killing me and I shouldn't even be typing into this little box, because the following things are about to shoot me down with an AK-47 (not neccesarily in order, because if I knew how to order things that would mean I would know time management, which I clearly don't): Euro (although it's brilliant), Statistics (who knew?), physics (oh dear god shoot me), Oratory (Shalene, what does it have to do again? Could you give me the reqs?), piano (when my teacher comes back from Florida i am so DEAD), and, um... well, that's it. And wow, I'm cringing from the bad grammar of the previous sentence.
And this is, I swear, the last pity-me entry. About junior year academics, I mean. It's been a very oh-woe-is-me sort of day, thank you all for putting up with it, you amazing, wonderful friends.
Alright. Deep breath. Time to do work.