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Wednesday, August 03, 2005
I had every intention of going to uni today! I swear! But then I remembered that I only have one fifty minute tute, and it's the first tute of the semester as it's only week fucking two instead of how it feels (week fucking thirteen), so I thought I couldn't be arsed. Which is bad, as for the rest of the week I worry about the subject throwing me out because I missed the first tutes, and how I'm going to lose all my participation marks and wah wah wah. Stupid uni. But the thing that annoys me most about uni at the moment is this sudden obsession with weekly worksheets. What the fuck? These are dumbarse Arts subjects! I know worksheets have done the rounds in Science circles, but come on, for Arts? And they threaten that if you don't hand the worksheet in each week (in the LECTURE, where they take ATTENDANCE), you FAIL THE ENTIRE COURSE. What the fuck? Power trip much? So of course I skipped the lecture where the worksheet was handed out, and it's due on Monday so tomorrow I have to haul ass around campus and try to find one. Hopefully I won't have to plead with the lecturer and demean myself further. How embarrassment.

But yeah, I'm so fucking exhausted. I started writing this post of Wednesday, and now it's Friday. And in that time I managed to find one of the worksheets, nearly complete it, go to "work", deal with a most annoying client at "work", catch public transport, miss the public transport I was hoping to catch, navigate through the hordes of Aborginals wandering around and begging money (seriously, their population must have grown or something, can we stop whinging about the Stolen Generation now?), and now I have to like, clean the house, finish my worksheet, and do another one! Grumble.

And, just for the icing on the cake, as I was writing that last paragraph, my cat shat on my foot. Fucking fuck fuck. It was so revolting, I saw her hunched over and doing these loud farts. I thought "oh fuuuuuuuuuck", grabbed her and hauled ass to throw her outside, unfortunately I must have squeezed too hard on her bowel, and she shat on to my foot. Ew. At least it was solid, and not diarrhoea-y I guess. And I should cut her some slack, she is like, 22 years old. Sigh. This is so not my week.

But I'm hoping things will improve this weekend. Tomorrow I've decided to cut off my hair, which I am a bit relieved about. Long hair is so played. And while I have nice bone structure etc., I don't think it really works for me. So yay, personal changes!