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GODDTHEFUCKDAMNIT.
TODAY SUCKED BALLS. This fucking sucks, and it's a bunch of SHIT as well. Why? First of all, my physics prof handed back two papers. One I got 50/50 on, but the other? 67/90. And I HATE how he teaches. He pretends like he helps us soooo much, but in reality he doens't ever directly tell you WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE DOING WRONG. Every time I ask for help, it's always, well, here's WHERE the problem is, but HE NEVER EXPLAINS WHAT. OR HOW TO REMEDY IT. FUCKING BASTARD. Then next? Religion. This huge assignment that I answered the fucking requirements online that the prof set up, but the grad assistant has his own stupid rules and now I got a fucking 70%, and we're not allowed to dispute it. Dear fucking God, I'm going to fail my fucking classes! THIS IS A LOAD OF BULLSHIT! Plus we're only allowed to do TWO extra credit opportunities in that class, and they are ALWAYS when I have class. This. Is. Shite. And the last thing? I brought and ooooold journaly thing home, and accidentally handed it off to my mom. She returned it "without reading it," she says, because it looked like personal stuff. Well, she had to at least read to the second line to figure out it was personal (though OLD), and RIGHT BELOW IT are the words I generally take care TO TELL ABSOLUTELY NO ONE (you all KNOW I'm a freaking extremely overboard private person. GodDAMN.). FUCK DAMN HELL SHIT.
Please, somebody get me outta here. This blows. I am tired of this shit. SOOOO tired. Now I have to email my profs and be all, "hey, are you gonna take some other grades?" ALONG with figure out my goddamn band situation.
I am NOT in a good mood right now. Plus, I hate how teachers guilt you into things. And why is it that way with band directors?! Not that I want to quit pep band, but I don't know if I can handle it yet and I have a feeling as soon as I tell Dr. Morris that he's not going to be a happy camper. I TRY MY GODDAMN HARDEST not to use emotion to convince people of things, because my goddamn high school band director did it ALL THE FUCKING TIME, and it pissed me off.
THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT GOD, GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE.
Please, somebody get me outta here. This blows. I am tired of this shit. SOOOO tired. Now I have to email my profs and be all, "hey, are you gonna take some other grades?" ALONG with figure out my goddamn band situation.
I am NOT in a good mood right now. Plus, I hate how teachers guilt you into things. And why is it that way with band directors?! Not that I want to quit pep band, but I don't know if I can handle it yet and I have a feeling as soon as I tell Dr. Morris that he's not going to be a happy camper. I TRY MY GODDAMN HARDEST not to use emotion to convince people of things, because my goddamn high school band director did it ALL THE FUCKING TIME, and it pissed me off.
THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT GOD, GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE.