Monday, April 8, 2013

Well that took an unexpected turn

SOMETIMES I REALLY FEEL LIKE ONE OF THOSE UGLY YAPPY DOGS WHO RUNS AROUND FREAKING OUT AND EVERYONE JUST WANTS TO KICK IT TILL IT SHUTS UP.

I'm freaking out, Man.

Well...

... I am. And I'm not.

I started back to school today after a three week break and I guess I forgot how to act like a human being because I'm having the usual panic attack over the newness of my routine and the classes where I feel like the syllabus is threatening me and I kind of just want to take a Xanax and pass out.

Only I don't have any Xanax and I don't know how to get any. And even if I did, I would chicken out before I even took it because I've always had the fear that should I ever attempt any kind of street/scrip drug, I would have a terrible reaction and so something weird like knock on people's door asking if they had fresh chicken eggs and proceed to pelt them with a carton of eggs I got from my own fridge. Or I would call 911 and request that I be arrested because I hate the idea of breaking the law so much that my conscience would never rest until justice was served.

My God.

Yeah, so I just realized how I sound and I all I can say is that I hope those of you who know me in real life can appreciate the fact that I tend to exaggerate a little and I am actually not certifiably insane.

Those of you who do not know me... eh. Perceive this mess in whatever way you choose.

I can be a tad obsessive about a new situation (I know. I can hardly believe it either), but after I thoroughly freak myself out, work out all the kinks and what-if's, I calm down and no one even knows about the war inside my head.

Well. Except you guys. Sorry.

I do think I'm in love with my Philosophy teacher.

Because he's funny.

What would you rather subject yourself to: A teacher who nervously tries to engage the class and randomly laughs in the middle of words (true story), or a teacher who, when reviewing the syllabus and making it clear that he will not discriminate based on sex, race, or creed, then stops and asks, "Who here likes the band Creed?" And when I'm the only person to raise my hand, he tells me to get out because I shouldn't even be allowed to enroll in college with that kind of taste in music. Thank God I didn't tell him about my adoration of Nickelback (SHUT YOUR MOUTHS).

I'm not actually in love with him because in a weird way he reminds me of my brother (not Gary. The other one I haven't mentioned because he utilizes his jackassery in California, ten million miles away from Elle and I. And in case you forgot, Gary deployed. It's only Elle and I now). The teacher looks a little like my brother, has the same sense of humor, and great. Now you guys think I have some weird kind of Flowers in the Attic obsession going on.

This post needs to end. Abruptly.

I can't save it.

Good-bye.
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