justnick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mean it. Kisses. I hate my inability to study. I can read about the minutiae of obscure crap for hours on end, as long as it's something I give a shit about, but you put 200 level sociology study notes in front of me, something I'm actually getting marked on, and it might as well be written in Greek. Ask me about the mating habits of some obscure primate. Go ahead, do it. I'll know. Ask me what some obscure Sumerian God named his twin kids, I've got you covered. Ask me where every goddamn random piece of internet slang came from, and I can practically write you a frikkin biography. But my test tomorrow? I've tried to read these notes I took ten times in the last hour and every goddamn time I get so antsy it makes me queasy. My brain is good at storing all manner of unimportant crap, but it's a stubborn, self important organ, who can't be bothered with what you think it needs to know. I also hate the thermostat in my condo, that patch of ice I slipped in yesterday, the paper I have to write tomorrow, credit card companies, the other thing of ice that fell on my head, the people who canceled Firefly, the mindless drones who were complaining about their kids' toys being used as terrorist propaganda, I hate the useless regret that plagues me when I'm stressed, or haven't slept enough, I hate that all my favourite foods are caked in grease, and I hate not having a girlfriend. But I love you. 10:41 p.m. - 2009-02-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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