2amfix.net

I’m so fucking close to just slapping someone right now, that it’s not even funny. I mean, you’d think God gave people enough common sense to know to stay away from a temperamental crazy woman in finals week. But did He? NO.

I mean my freakin English professor acts like she’s doing us all a favor by gracing us with her presence during my English 100 final. It’s your fucking class, its your fucking job — learn to deal. If you had to wake up 1 hour earlier, for one day out of the WHOLE, ENTIRE semester — SUCK IT UP. We’re the ones fucking writing! And sure, maybe you were grading our final essays during that time, but woman, you’re doing no one a favor by grading them in that fucking mood. Seriously.

Then we’ve got my brother acting as if his world has been thrown into utter and complete turmoil because of a fucking group project. YOU’RE IN FUCKING 7TH GRADE. HOW FUCKING STRESSFUL CAN LIFE POSSIBLY BE?!?! I mean seriously! Learn some fucking coordination skills, do your homework, drag your ass to school everyday, and you’re covered! I did it. My sister did. EVERY FUCKING PERSON DOES IT. I fail to see why it’s so extraordinarily difficult for you.

Then there’s my father. Oh, my wonderfully, sweet sweet father. HA! I could pour out a flawlessly flowing essay, relating how fucking annoying this man is, on spot — but alas — I have finals to study for.

Then I’ve got stress from males, stress from finals, stress from the outcome of finals, stress from the upcoming SF trip, stress from the stress I’m going to get because I’m going on the SF trip, stress from my brother’s performance in school, stress from thinking about next semester’s schedule and classes, stress from covering for everyone, stress from being punk ass broke, and the stress of having so much fucking stress — it’s fucking endless!

So although my vacation technically starts in approximately 18 hours, I’m still fucking dying.