The time is nigh...

I typed hurriedly in the dark, the ceiling fan doing little to alleviate the blistering heat of the desert. I could see the first rays of sunlight shinning through the window, menacingly, messengers of what was to come. In vain I tried to write faster, I even plagiarized a few wikipeda archives in my despair. I hit the print button and bit my fingernails, thinking I wouldn't get a chance to have a shower before class. And that's when I heard it. The screeching wail of the printer stoping. The screen flashed a message, "Your Epson printer has run out of black ink...". My heart started beating wildly and I felt the savage urge to unplug the damn thing. I shot a glance at my watch, it was already seven a.m. and I was late again. When I turned around, she was standing there, right in front of me, smiling and getting a good nostril full of the fear and hate I was exuding. The deadline pushed her knife into my chest, sure and deadly...

Well okay, maybe I'm being an intsy witsy bit melodramatic, but thats more or less what my days have been like. My own damn fault, i know, but horrid all the same.

Today was just one of THOSE days. I got up, hugged William till he made the baby equivalent of "Mom get off, you're cramping my style." Took him to daycare and vegetated on the sofa while glancing at my watch the way you look at an ex you don't want to cath you staring. Finally when I was quite sure I was late, and I couldn't bare to watch the 8th and Ocean girls ponder about breast implants any longer, i got up, put on a "slightly lest soiled than all the rest" t-shirt and drove to uni in a daze.

Classmates later reported I manged to ace the Introduction to Science oral exam (no not that type of oral exam you pervs), by talking much, and saying very little of any substance. Afterwards we had a sickeningly sweet tanatology course which I had to walk out of, or I would have ended up asking some uncomfortable questions. Like, what was going to happen to Hermeninia the cat and her second husband when they died and went to the big kitty litter tray in the sky? Was she going to dump him for her first husband Juan Carlos, who urged her in a dream to get married again after his death?

More worringly it seems I'm a sociopath. I'm the only person in my class who isn't afraid of being alone in the woods...except at night...bunch of wuzzes. And I can't think of a moment in my life when I have experience deep loss...not to mention I have a deep disrespect for the average law and moral ethics... enough symptoms to get me commited? You've been warned...