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12:17 p.m.
2002-03-14
Post-Smarch Depression
Because I'm avoiding doing my work and I don't feel like moving, I'm going to simply write something stupid like this in here so I can archive my Smarch entries.
Sure, I should be reading my book on soccer hooligans. Sure, I should be writing the paper on it. Sure, I should be editing my research paper. But what am I doing? That's right. Fucking around.
I can't wait for this God damned quarter to be over. I don't know how much more of this I can take.
And if I get hit one more time with a book bag and the person doesn't apologize, I'm going to go ballistic. Is it so difficult to apologize for injuring someone? And don't get all pissy because my freaking chest isn't resting on the damned lab table so that I have to type like I have no arms so that your stupid self can get down the row. Jesus.
*breathes heavily* And here I am, doing it again. For the love of Christ. I hate this.
At least I have something that's keeping me going. Praise the Lord for that.
And wish me luck tomorrow.
Quote for the Day: "How wonderful life is, now you're in the world." --"Your Song"