My father is a bitch. I've a 120-question test tomorrow for Anatomy. I take my book/notes/index cards into the living room. He plops down on the recliner and flips on the TV. I roll my eyes, move into the family room, at this little table. Fifteen minutes later, he says he needs the table to set up his laptop and do some work. And he's trying to converse with me about "how life is" like he's my best friend. Great.

I can't study in my room because my sister's stereo is blaring and I hate Evanescence. Gah. And I get too distracted in my room. Almost out of options. I guess I can wake up around 5am and study at school until my 8:00 Lab. Yeah.