Staring down the barrel of two homework assignments that aren't really optional.

On the one hand, a minor character analysis. Mind you, it's only a rough draft first paragraph, but it bears some serious thought because A) I'm actually going to have to write this essay come next week, and B) we're doing peer review, shoot me in the face right fucking now. I hate peer review. I fucking loathe it.

On the other hand, an in-class writing assignment in French with no aid from the book or notes. However, we are allowed a cheat sheet of whatever proportions we like; it can be photocopies of pages in the book, handwritten or typed, back and front on one 8.5x11 inch sheet.

I have started neither project, and however I do it, whether it be staying up until 5am or getting up at 7am, I have class at 11:30 and I need to get there on time to have all the time possible for this stupid assignment.

I'm thinking I'm going to regret not writing better for French than for Shakespeare, but that I might-could afford bad-to-decent grades on both assignments? God. I want to do well this semester, I really do. I set the bar really fucking high last semester with that 3.8 and I don't want to do worse than that anymore. I didn't try as hard as I could in high school and Grandpa being proud of me for being here are motivators but this RA stuff is hard. And time consuming. And I still don't have a life. It feels like summer all over again.

Shit. It's fucking 3am. What the fuck are you doing, Darienne? Just get to fucking work or go to bed. AND ACTUALLY GET UP IN THE MORNING.

Alright. I'm going to decide what to write on for Shakespeare and then go to bed. Ebony's going to give me a wake up call at 7am and I think I'll definitely drag myself up at 9am if not before. Here's to hoping I can get all my shit together and at least make it through the day. Because today just fucking sucked. I can't seem to get it together on the academic front, and it's both frustrating and frightening. 

To top it all off, I feel completely boxed in and stunted creatively; my keyboard came in from woot.com but I don't know if it's working properly, I haven't played Charlie since I left Houston roughly a month and a half ago, and I haven't written anything in a week or so. Fuck time consuming activities. FUCK.

I apologize for all the expletives, but it just feels like a vulgar day. I'm sneezing and stuffy from tree pollen in the air and I missed class this morning.

Day in a nutshell:

On call last night, so completely exhausted. Skipped Brit Lit because sore throat + stuffy/runny nose upon waking. Dragged self over to testing center for Bio Pretest only to forget password, fuck up pretest, not take it. Flying blind into Monday's Bio Test 1. (Fucking wonderful.) Dash out homework and run to Grammar, reviewing for test next Tuesday. (Joy of joys.) Scarf down a couple sandwiches and Doritos and sustenance before Shakespeare class extra credit at 6:30pm. Grab Taco Bell afterwards at ~9pm. Work desk from 10pm 'til midnight, and get no homework done, as per usual. Get Papa John's after and procrastinate approximately 2.5 hours away on the internet.

Now I'm exhausted, cranky, allergy-ridden, un-showered, mad because I didn't work out, over-full because I was starving myself of food today, groggy and unable to bring myself to do my work. FUUUUUUUUUUUUCK THIS SHIT. God damn it.

And that's not a GOOD keyboard smash.

I feel like complete crap. Woke up feeling okay. Progressively got worse from there. I believe we call that degenerative? Whatever. I can't be smart now. My head hurts too much.

I went in to work for like, 3 or 4 hours, Robert was a champ and my hero (along with Millar, who was being totally awesome for me and coming in to work) and came back to work even after opening this morning and all.

Came home, gorged on Chick-fil-A and watched Fantastic Four: Rise of the Silver Surfer and Knocked Up. Entertaining.

Now I'm lying on the couch with a headache and mom being very concerned that I might have that pig illness bullshit - although she has a fair point since I'm around so many people everyday. But I'm waiting for my Torchwood to download. Gorramit, O'Halloran is being slow as shit tonight and it's not helping my mood.

Talking to Zach on AIM does.

BUT THEY BROUGHT BACK VOYAGER AND IT'S MOTHERFUCKING COUNTERPOINT. YOU BET YOUR ASS I'M WATCHING THAT SHIT. I DON'T CARE IF IT'S AT MOTHERFUCKING TWO O CLOCK IN THE GOD DAMN AM, I WILL STAY UP FOR THAT SHIT.

Not even an hour into work today I get bitched at by Stanley. Apparently it's my fault that the guard tubes get picked at and break. Over the last two days we lost two tubes, and so today we didn't have enough to go around. Which was poor management on my part; I'm supposed to notify someone if we have 'just enough' of anything. Which is bullshit. If I had told Ken that we were losing tubes, his first question would be, "Do we have enough to open right now?" and the answer would be yes and his response would be, "Then we'll get some later." Lose-fucking-lose situation. It wasn't even 9:30. I didn't get breakfast, I was craving donuts, I've been working for six days straight and I can't catch a fucking break at work to save my life.

This is too much. It's too much.

Get home, treated myself to Subway for lunch, crashed. Woke up to see that my mass text to go see The Proposal was shot down by two friends with previous plans, one who'd seen it twice, and three that never responded. Only Liz was going to go, and the she canceled on me because she had a long day playing around with her AC buddies.

So, I'm at home bored, hungry (because I can't decide what I want to eat and I'm trying to resist the urge to go buy fast food) with only Charlie -- that's my guitar -- for company. On a fucking Friday night. This is not how summer Friday nights are supposed to be spent.

Oh, and I cleaned the house for tomorrow. Basically, I did a  whole lot of shit I don't like doing today; 1) sitting at home, especially on a weekend night, 2) not eating, 3) cleaning, 4) getting bitched at that I'm not doing my job properly/right/well.

Fuck this. Fuck this summer. At least if I was at school and I had nobody to hang out with I'd have control of my television or homework to do. All I can do here is clean. And not eat. God damn it.

I was there for seven hours today.

If I had a sawed-off shotgun to eat, it would've been eaten.

Never again will I work that long. Cor.

Working for a good long time tomorrow too. Whoop-di-freaking-do.

God, not one call or text today. Thanks, friends. This summer blows.

Hate my life. Can't do it anymore. I lose the game. (And the game, my friends, is LIFE.)

I've got a shit-ton to do tonight, and of course I had forgotten to change the time zone on my profile for my online workstation for French, so 11:00 rolls around tonight and I've only got a 73% completion. Fucking perfect end to a shit day. 24 hours of horribleness, and not the good kind.

Room is exceptionally clean. I swept everywhere on my side of the room. Even under my bed. That makes me feel a little better. (Although if I hadn't spent so long on it and laundry, I would've got my French done, fucking unconscious procrastination...)

I have just been informed that the leak is back. Luckily it's not heading our way.

God. I'm so tired, I'm just rambling now. I was talking with Steph just now, and I didn't just lose my train of thought, it just disappeared. Poof.

I am so far gone I don't even know where I am.

That sounded kinda profound, didn't it? It didn't? Damn.

My eating today consisted of fruit, cranberry juice and a blueberry bagel at breakfast, 1.5 turkey sandwich(es), Doritos, a Nature Valley bar and Sprite for lunch, then dinner of a small bit of leftover barbeque pork, a tiny bowl of the last of my Frosted Flakes and an apple.

I can't tell if I should be proud or worried that I ate so little for dinner. Hrm. I wanted to work out tonight. Might as well have, now, but it's too late.

Alright. Losing the coherency battle means it's time to go to bed. I'll just have to read Douglass and pray I don't fall asleep on it. (And if I do fall asleep on it, I pray I wake up in time to see Voyager.)

I can't win. I just can not fucking win.

As I've already extrapolated, my academic life is turning into hell. March has kicked me in the ass already, and will continue to do so, I'm sure. I've got a Theatre mid term tomorrow afternoon, 9:30 class to start and French. A quiz, and a chapter's worth of online work is due tomorrow night. So I'm studying, Steph is watching the After the Final Rose After The Final Rose Part three hundred and fourteen paragraph VIII of the Bachelor and she says she's gonna work out after.

A run would be nice, methinks. So I agree to go with her. I manage to run 3.5 miles on the elliptical in 33 minutes, and I ran a mile in about 10.5 min, so I'm feeling pretty good about myself. As we're leaving my RLC Amy calls and asks if I'm in the building. I respond no.

Turns out there was a leak in the bathroom and the shower backed up so water flooded into my room. Not the room directly across from the fucking bathroom. Not the room next to ours. No. My room. Our room, me and Steph. Because the one time I decide to go with her, it's late and water slide sunder the door all the way into my closet, soaking MY freshly luandered clothes, MY forty dollar Nike soccer backpack, under MY desk and into MY comforter. If not for the two rugs Steph contributed to the room, my GH guitars would be nice and ruined too. And apparently the water slid to the 'right'-- into my side of the room. Most of Steph's stuff was fine.

I have shit all over my bed, clothes I can't dry because the fucking LAUNDRY ROOM IS HAVING A SMALL LOCALIZED RAINSTORM. Oh yeah, didn't I mention? It's 'rainin' in the the stairwell and into the laundry room where tiles are collapsing and falling sopping wet onto the ground willy nilly. I have nowhere to hang my wet clothes. No where to put them. Not enough towels to dry all the stuff. and it's starting to smell. fuck capitalization, fuck my fucking fucked up can't catch one god damn mother fucking break life fuck every fucking god damn thing I just wanted to study for my fucking mid term and go to bed before three am but fuking NO. it's NOT FUCKING POSSIBLE, IS IT?!

There aren't enough expletives in the English language to satisfy my frustration. I'm so done with this shit.

I'm staring at shit all over my bed, on my floor, there's a bunch of my crap in the hallway being blown on by a huge loud fan. I haven't even studied that much. It's now 1:30. I'm so... I can't even. My calendar was ruined, and so was my PS2 box. Now I have nothing to carry my gamer stuff in... I don't even... So tired. Reading other people's woes on fmylife made me feel marginally better, but the mildew smell is starting to pervade and it doesn't help that I'm really hungry. And was up late last night with work/ Day of Honor was on and you know how I am about my Voyager.

My fingers are pruny from wringing out dripping, soaking wet clothing. I just have to pray that they'll be okay over night. I seriously want to cry right now but my eyes are dry and scratchy. I've got nothing left. It's just minor setback after major set back after crappy holiday after a month full of hell after missing birthdays and things being out of convenience. I'm just so tired of it all. I want to curl up in my bed and see my best friend and let my mom take care of me. But I'm a month and 300 miles away and six months too late to be that immature. I AM SO FUCKING TIRED. I could sleep for days. I wish I could sleep for days. I try to cry and there's nothing but a hurt in my chest. Can't even have a breakdown when I'm feeling this bad. Wonderful.

As great as 2008 was, 2009 sucks fucking balls right now (and has done for the past two months).

Jesus fucking Christ.

Siddhartha fucking Gautama.

This day was such a fucking ordeal.

( Cut because I don't want to have to look at this unless I choose to when viewing my own journal, it sucked that bad. (ly, yes, I know, the word I should use here is bad-ly, I don't care.)Collapse )


There were a couple good things today. Like I got to see Markie, who is just so adorable. That boy is a hot mess though. Accident prone little hyperactive boy. I love him quite dearly. 

I'm home. For a month. And classes are out. OH and I got 42 dollars for my Econ book. :D But mostly... yeah, today blows.

My grandpa died.

I have two tests tomorrow.

My parents have no idea how or when I'm getting home yet.

I'm not ready for my Astronomy test tomorrow. Again.

My eyes hurt from crying or trying not to cry so much all day.

Can I rewind to Saturday? When I was bouncing around campus like a crazy, regular college student and her family wasn't in mourning at home? When if I had gone home, everything would have been just like when I left, all the people in the right places and available for hugs and kisses?

Please?

I don't know how to write the email to my professors explaining why I won't be in class. I can't ask you to not give your sympathies, but please, no stories about how you lost whoever, or whatever. I'm a shallow bitch and I'd like to wallow in my own sorrows, thank you. Sharing yours isn't going to make me feel one damn iota better, and hell if I'm not wildly widely ranging between emotions right now. Anger seems to be winning out in response to sadness.

Cause you know,
I don't do sadness
not even a little bit.
Just don't need it in my life
don't want any part of it.
I don't do sadness,
hey I've done my time
looking back on it all
then it blows my mind,
I don't do sadness
so been there.
Don't do sadness
just don't care.