Friday, March 4, 2011

RANT: One of Those Days...

Hi there Sunshine!
Today was just one of Those Days.
You know, one of Those Days that everyone always talks about but never really explains? Yeah. I get it now.
Here are the qualifications to know that you are having One of Those Days:
It usually starts with ominous foreshadowing the night before. As in, you're laying in bed trying to go to sleep when you suddenly remember you were supposed to stay after school in the Homework Room. But since you didn't, you now have an automatic write-up. Which only gives the insane Science teacher another reason to hate you. Yes, ol' Demented DeGlee will have a field day with this, even though you shouldn't have to stay after anyway since you're not even failing.
The next morning, do not be fooled by the fact that you are having a good hair day. This is only fate satisfying their sick sense of humor by lulling you into a false sense of security. After all, what can go wrong on a good hair day?
Hah. Cue humorless chuckle.
By the time you're on the bus, you're already about to explode in someone's face. Namely, your best friend Kayla's horrible boyfriend, Arnold. I swear, every other word out of that dickwad's mouth is not only completely irritating, stereotypical of a classic "Gimme your lunch money" bully, completely disgusting, profane, and sexist, but also So. Fucking. Loud.
And trust me, I'm not usually the type to swear. But Arnold, he brings out the "SHUT THE FUCK UP" in me.
Anyway, classes start out bad and get worse. Science is first up to bat, and if that's not bad enough, Demented DeGlee appears to be as pissed off as me. Like, when I don't have a paper (I skipped bringing my binder ONE DAY, and what do I get?) she starts screaming "YOU ARE SUPPOSED TO BRING A PAPER AND A PENCIL EVERYDAY" She might as well have topped it off with a good "OR I'LL RIP YOUR FUCKING ORGANS OUT". Then she stomps over to my desk, at which I am scrunched up in with my head between my arms, crying because I that's what I do when I get mad (Don't ask me why), and SLAMS down a paper in front of me, then starts obsessively clicking through the slides so there is absolutely no way I can copy the notes down.
After Science is Art. Which would be great, if our teacher knew what the hell she was talking about. I mean, I can draw better than her. 'Nuff said.
Between classes, I was walking out of the bathroom, when who should be on the other side of the door than... HANNAH THE BITCH FROM HELL! I will not even go into what she did to Kayla last year. But she takes one look at me, rolls her eyes and says "Um, ew!" in a whisper that could be heard in New Zealand. I, being rather mature, rolled my eyes in my perfected Bratty Teenager technique and walked away.
A few classes later, it was lunchtime. Usually at lunch, I go with my friends to the uber-exclusive and oh-so-chichi... NERDY BOOK CLUB IN THE ENGLISH ROOM WITH OUR HIPPIE TEACHER!! YAY!!! It's great.
Except today, Mr. English Teacher had somewhere to be, so we had to go to the cafeteria with the rest of the populace. And may I just say, Aiyaiyai! Elbow room is a myth!
Afterward in Study Lab, Kayla spent the time mostly complaining along with me and inadvertantly cheering me up. Mostly because -- and she'll kill me for this -- Her face is so funny! I was having a mad laughing fit at her facial expressions while she just stared at me going "What? What?"
Then Social Studies rolled around and Kayla and I had to do research for our report on Benedict Arnold. We ended up discussing my new nickname for Derrick -- Schkiggledeenyo (I'm always coming up with nicknames for people) -- And wondering how it was even possible that Benedict died from a goldfish disease. Seriously, does anyone know?
Math was a blur, and so was the last period of the day, Magazine. I'm pretty sure I got yelled at, and somewhere along the way I think I staged a silent protest in front of my locker and told my friend Nichole that I was never going to class, EVER. She made me go...
What's the worst day you've ever had? Go ahead, make me feel like a whiner.

Signing off,
Sweet but Insane