So, it is nigh on Spring Break. ‘But it’s not even spring,’ you may think to yourself. Right you are, but the state of South Dakota doesn’t care. We never have spring break at a normal time. Many people are heading to exotic destinations like Cancun, Panama City, Tahiti, or Las Vegas. Not me. I shall head back to Podunk for oral surgery. That’s right as friends sip margaritas on the beach, I will be under the knife having a wisdom tooth out. Fun. Looking forward to it. As it is though, I think I’d rather have my teeth pulled than go to class. Wahoo.
So I’m addicted to reality television. Stupid, shallow, obviously fake, or otherwise–I will watch it. Bachelorette/Bachelor, Joe Millionaire, Real World, Road Rules, Trading Spaces, While You Were Out, Fear Factor, Meet My Folks, Tough Enough, and Elimidate to name a few. In fact, I’m watching Elimidate right now. By the way–shoot me if I’m ever on that show. Where do they get those people? I know it’s the dumbest show ever, but yet I…must…watch…it. Oh, yep. One girl just took her top off. Seriously, has she no shame? I guess I was just brought up as a goody-two-shoes and can’t imagine such behavior. Of course, I’ve known (as well as my family) since childhood that I will watch about anything on television. Even Stevens marathon on Disney? I’m there. Trading Spaces? I’m definitely there. Game Show Network? The best thing ever. With all this TV watching, you must be wondering, how do you get your work/homework done? Very carefully I tell you. It’s all about organization and procrastination.
A tale of mystery and intrigue abounds today. I had a test today so I had been studying on my bed Sunday and Monday. Whenever I was quietly studying I could hear a prominent tick-tock. Strange, I thought to myself, I had never heard this before now. Perhaps I had just never paid attention? I was about ready to rip out the wall to see if there was a clock hidden within its bowels.
Now flash back to Thursday or Friday. Roommate Y had decided the clock in our living room was too loud. She replaced it with another clock and that was that. Or so I thought. Saturday a board fell out from under my bed. I decided I should consult housemate X to see what to do with it, but then forgot about it. Yesterday she stops to talk to me, lays on my bed, and upon getting up, my bed falls apart. Yes, that’s right, it falls apart. Not by her fault of course, but there is an extra board leaning against my wall that must be necessary for support (hmmm…haha). So X and I drag off the mattress and box spring to investigate. As we start to nail back in the boards (it turns out more than one board had come unfastened), I see what looks like an upside down clock.
It turns out Y had stashed the clock there unbeknownst to me. We all about died laughing as I had thought it to be quite curious that I had just started hearing a tick-tock near my bed. Talk about not putting two-and-two together.
I have upset the delicate balance of personalities in my household. Yes, that’s right. I apparently have recently forgotten my position as the one-who-lets-things-go-and-generally-tries-to-maintain- cheeriness-and-non-bitterness. It seems that now that I have figured out how to be assertive and stick up for myself, my roomies are upset with me. Well, scratch that. Roomies X and Y might be worried about the rocking of the ship. (Note: they may read this, but I don’t really care right now. Although I might later). I take a lot of crap from my housemates. Don’t get me wrong, I dish out quite a bit as well. Lately, I’ve had the distinct, nagging feeling that there are discussions about me going on behind my back. Y’all know what I’m talking about. I can sense it, and it’s a little unsettling. I have been asserting myself in small ways for a little while now. However, it all came to a head on Friday. Housemate X and I had planned to go workout at 6 am (our usual time). I struggled out of bed and wandered downstairs to make sure X was up and about. She was not. She then told me she was not planning to get up and go. So there I am, fully dressed, shoes and droopy, tired eyes in tow, she’s telling me she’s not going. Well, screw that. I don’t HAVE to go to workout at 6 am on Fridays since I am free to go in the afternoon. I got up to go workout at freakin’ 6 because X had to work later and this was the only time to go.
Obviously, this wasn’t going to fly. I told her so. She gets upset and turns it on me with “Ok Swan. I’ll freakin’ get up.” etc, etc, something about guilt tripping and all in an almost sleepy yell. I said something about not turning it on me though it is a little hazy in retrospect. Anyhoo, later that night I said something to other roomies about X probably telling them a little story about the morning. They of course respond that, yes, they had gotten an earfull about it. I tried to tell them my side, but they didn’t want to hear anymore of the story. So obviously X is recanting tales and my side is lost in the ballyhoo. Even now, a couple days later, X seems a little distant like she is still upset. I say screw that. I did nothing wrong. Oh, perhaps, I should mind my position in the hierarchy. Whatever.
Wahaha. I have defeated the blogger giant. Two days, two entries. Aren’t you proud?
My ponderance for today is, why can some people just not enjoy life? For example, I was reading RWs Melissa’s most recent blog entry today, and she just kept going on and on about sad things in her life. I will be the first to admit that my life has been a cake-walk compared to 95% of the world, but is it impossible for her to look at anything optimistically? I don’t believe she is depressed, but she finds darkness (and many times racism) in most things. Her birthday was recently and she lamented it. I love my birthday. I feel like the most special person in the world. And I think most people, whether they will admit it or not, feel the same way.
I am in the beginning stages of the realization that I am the worst blogger ever. One would think that it would not be that difficult to write an entry at least once a week given that so many others find time to do so every day of the week. Perhaps I am the most boring person in the world, though, and, thus being so boring, have nothing on which to comment. No funny goings-on in my life. No stupid housemate stories. No rantings. Oh wait, I can always come up with those– I just don’t have the ambition to take the time to put it all down. Well, maybe I can….
I am entirely sick of school. Having already endured two tests this week (International Finance and Promotional Mgmt), I have overreached my attention capacity for anything related to school. As I wrap up my 17th straight year of education, I am burned out. Burned out like a 30-minute-old light bulb from the dollar store. I have developed a late-stage, debilitating sort of attention deficit disorder. I am not lying when I say that this customized ADD is absolutely annoying. I don’t think I can file this innane illness at University disability services, and, of course, my professors will probably not accept this self-described and diagnosed disorder. In conclusion, I blame the bad grade anticipated on my finance test on the ADD. Darned ADD anyway.