Moody Bitch

I am in quite the mood today. Everyone was annoying the hell out of me (unlike most days when only a select few have the distinct pleasure of annoying me). I have no idea why -- I just woke up ready to punch someone in the neck.

Maybe it was because I woke up this morning to yet another snow squall and my dog standing on my left breast. Or maybe because we're supposed to get even more snow this weekend.

Or maybe it was because I had class tonight, and after one long, tedious month the results are in. All the data has been collected, sorted, analyzed and it was determined that I do, in fact, go to school with retards. OK, so that wasn't the most politically correct statement. Forgive me.

Intellectually challenged fucktards.

Next thing you know, they'll all be showing up to class in a little yellow bus.

Generally I try to keep my narcissism at a respectable level (OK, so not really) -- but these kids really and truly are idiots. A few weeks ago, two of them spent the first half of class drawing a picture of the professor, and then started giggling. Of course, the prof had to ask what was so funny. We then spent the next 10 minutes discussing his likeness in said drawing. (Remember when you were 5 years old and drew pictures of people with arms and legs coming out of their heads because when you're 5, bodies don't exist?? Apparently, they don't exist when you're 19, either.)

The following week, the professor was discussing the damaging and toxic reactions nicotine in cigarettes undergo in your lungs, when Georgia O'Keeffe raised her hand to ask if marijuana has the same effect.

This may be a stretch here, but I'm betting that marijuana might explain her anatomically incorrect sketches.

And today, on our break, several students got lost.

Lost.

As in couldn't find their way back to the classroom when they walked down a straight hallway to get a salad, which they proceeded to crunch loudly in class once they found their way back -- presumably by following their own scents, as college students apparently develop an late-in-life allergy to soap.

Generally, they outgrow this odd phenomenon before their first job interview ... unless, of course, they will be commuting on the same train as me, or sharing an office with me. Then it's usually coupled with compulsive finger nail clipping in public.

So, yeah, I'm in a foul mood.

And now I'm going downstairs to watch one of the last 10 episodes of Dawson's Creek. Yes, it's "Countdown to Goodbye." This piece of shit program is finally being killed, and we can all breathe a sigh of relief that we'll never have to hear that Paula Cole song again.

Posted by LA at February 12, 2003 08:06 PM | TrackBack