You want to know what being insensitive means?
Let me tell you. It’s when you’ve had the most *insert swear word* up day and when you’re just done with 18 days (432 hours) of sheer exam pressure, and your parents don’t let you go out cause supposedly your ‘chores’ aren’t done on a ‘regular basis’. Do they care that I screwed my French paper up really bad? No. Do they care that I then proceeded to walk in the sun and had to endure an hour of torture in the parlour? No. Do they care that I haven’t asked to go out in, lets see, forever? No. Do they care that I’m leaving for 2 freaking months, day after tomorrow, and won’t get to see my friends/go to nice places for 60 days? No. This is why I call them insensitive.
So everyone is out having fun and celebrating, and I’m writing this blog, while my every cell screams out in anger. Yes, anger. Cause it really sucks when you’ve been waiting for something for weeks and then it all gets completely messed up because YOU aren’t in the god damn position to decide. And oh boy, the look on their faces while I grit my teeth and walk away? It’s the kind of look that makes you want to rip your pillow apart and go on to burn every feather. No kidding. I have contemplated swallowing my ego. But then again, why should i? I mean, trade a submissive ego for their sadistic looks of victory after crushing my spirit? Yeah right. So NOT happening.
God I hate this. With legality should come freedom and a new apartment. I’m sure you must think I’m being a real drama queen with too many tantrums. You know what? I don’t really care. You aren’t the one stuck here watching ‘the hangover’ in order to feel just a little bit better. I am. Hence, frankly you are no one to be passing any sort of judgment.
On this happyfuckingnote, I think I’ll go and channelize my bad mood in a more productive manner.