hellabella

Well I didn't go to class today. I had nightmares all morning about the teacher, woke up gasping for air and shaking, and we decided it best to take an F I was gonna get anyhow and not risk losing it if I had to deal with her passive-agressive shit. I'm going up to the counseling office tomorrow or calling up there to talk to...
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I'm a bit better now. Still a bit upset but not all weepy and angry and what not. Thanks deadman69 for your kind words.

I'm going to grab handful of strawberries and lay down. Took a nap but am still really tired. But to make up to the 2 entire people who read this, here's a pic of my 27-pound continent... er... I mean CAT,...
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It's now been almost an hour since I left school crying. It's official- I'm completely brain-dead. May have a fucking high-ass I.Q., but once numbers are involved, I'm a drooling dumbfuck. Whatever. I think I'm going to bed. I feel like I'm going to collapse due to physical and mental exhaustion and I can't imagine any good reason to be awake with myself right now....
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Anyone with any accounting and Excel knowledge who wants to help a total math-tard finish homework that's due tomorrow, who has AOL/AIM or MSN, PLEASE let me know. I'm goin' nuts. *bats eyelashes*

EDIT: Nevermind. I had 4 people who have degrees in accounting look at it and say it makes no sense. I'm not feeling NEARLY as stupid now.

Well, I was starting to feel a bit better and decided I was better enough to step out my front door. *Yoda voice* Very mistaken was I. *cough* So now I've doubled up on TheraFlu and will either be high as a kite or out like a light shortly. Cross your finegrs that I'm better tomorrow, because I still have a shit ton of homework...
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I have the flu, times 10,000,000.58693602 right now. TheraFlu never tasted so good, or good at all come to think of it, until now.

I've been sloooowly working on a novel. It's not easy being a poet/lyricist. More than 2 pages is like, "How the fuck...?" lol Anywhore, this is the poem I'm going to use to open the novel:

Never Expire
By: L. B. Carter
(March 12, 2006)

Birth is to Lived
as Water is to Oil.
Lifes repetition
sets us to rot, to spoil.

Mothers...
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My mother found a picture turned face-down in my brother's bathroom. It was a chic's backside in a thong. So... we tossed it out, I took a pic of my own arse in a thong, and we placed it just as the old pic was. *neener neener neeeeenerrrrr*