You guys, I'm taking a break from my hefty schedule of READING JOHN MILTON TILL MY EYES BLEED. But I can't really think of anything else. So.
Finals. Guys. Usually I don't get too bent out of shape about them - I'm VERY good at sublimating any negative emotions - but this semester for some reason I'm really psyching myself out. Last Spring, as all of you remember, I was out drinking heavily before my Accounting final (though I must have done pretty well since I ended up not failing the course - all my other grades in the class up to that point were pretty dismal). I think part of my stress is coming from the fact that I have three (3) finals on the 15th, all at stupid times. I have Finance at 8:30AM, then Modern British Novel at noon, and then American Literature at 6PM. I think a large degree of pre-exam anxiety is stemming from none of the exams starting at the same time as the classes themselves do. Like the Finance lecture usually starts at 9:35. So what goddamn business does the final have starting a full hour earlier than that?! God.
So the first thing I did today was stretch really big and pull a neck muscle, to the extent that 8 hours later I can still feel a little knot of pain there. Who the fuck does that? Old people do that. Of which I am one, of course. Then my mom had someone over doing some kind of carpentry work in the hallway (though the guy might as well have been in the selfsame room with me with all the damn noise he was making. HAMMER QUIETLY PLEASE). Talk about disruptive. What is the deal with that.
AND YET MORE DISRUPTION: I was cranky from listening to the guy hammer nails into my skull all morning so when I went downstairs to stretch my legs a little of course my mom jumps on my back about what I'm going to have for lunch. Because I'm 9 and can't be trusted to work the stove if I want to make a grilled cheese sandwich. If I want a grilled cheese sandwich I should remember to consult an adult. Like my mom. LIVING AT HOME, RIGHT GUYS?! Anyway I was getting more and more agitated because I kept denying that I was hungry (as I can readily identify hunger pangs or lack thereof) and she kept insisting that I was, in fact, hungry, and finally I just walked upstairs silently as I started having visions of killing us both with a pepper mill (Good Heavens). So that's my mindspace as of about ten minutes ago. I would categorize it as "improbably sinister".
Suffice it to say that I am absolutely gagging for Winter Break to arrive so I can sit around watching daytime television and eating bonbons, or whatever it is that people with the will to live do these days.
So just as I finished typing that last sentence, I tried logging into Twitter with the username "twitter" and I was on the verge of exploding, when my mom walked in and I was like "WHAT NOW" and she was like, "I found these pink post-its, do you want them" and I was like "YES I DO, I LOVE YOU MOMMY" and it became clear to me that this whole thing is a result of a pretty nasty case of PMS. So, disregard all of the above except for whatever parts amuse you most. Yayyyy(?)