When it comes to taking notes it seems that, when it comes right down to it, i go through a roller coaster of perfectly logical emotions and just end up sad. Initially notes upset me (in the profound way, not the listening to good charlotte and dieing my hair mat black way(how do you spell dieing?)) because they cramp my hand up…making my fingers feel the way that raisins look…they piss me off because they look like a monkey’s attempts at hieroglyphics in comparison to the hollister encased girl sitting next to me…they make me feel emphatically sad because the girl next to me has to make herself feel good by taking flawless notes (and wearing hollister—get a hobby ya no talent business major)…and then i get sad (again, like Heathcliff when Catherine dies not like that song about the car crash that has been covered by way too many lame bands sad) because I’m such an antisocial person without alcohol.
Posted on Tuesday, 2 February 2010
