rexa

*sigh*
Alright, I'll do it...I'll write some shit. I guess, if I have to. Ummmm school sucks. A thought: when registering in a course affectionately nicknamed "Rocks for Jocks", one should consider one's lack of fondness for jocks. I do not presume to include all athletes in this category, only those who are the sort of stereotypical jock whom I would rather avoid. I didn't think these people existed in such abundance in "real life"; I'd sort of just assumed they were a cinematic device used by movie writers. However, I was given a rude awakening in the form of a monologue spoken by the boy in front of me in class, the gist of which was (I do NOT exaggerate): "So I was doing bicep curls with the 40 pound weights, but he (a coach or trainer, presumably) told me I should totally be using the 60 pound weights"....and so on and so forth. My god. It didn't really bother me all that much, but I needed something to write about. That's all I got. Life doesn't usually present me with pearls of narrative interest.
Bah.
I am fundamentally bored. With everything, including existence. Wish things would shake themselves up a bit.