INTRODUCTION: What you are about to read is a boring, rambling, drawn out, and markedly unfunny account of how I live my daily life, and may go some way in explaining my lack of child support for this, our love child. As Emily explained in ridiculously sympathetic terms, I am a fail. Dear child, please understand that though I love you as only a mother can, I am completely incapable of existing in this world like a person successfully. Now, this post has been in the works for about a month, and in that time the quality has deceased from mildly amusing to slightly worrying to downright disturbing by the end. Please note that these are all exaggerations (though, sadly, not by much) and should not be taken in any way seriously. Yes, there is a marked decrease in quality, yes, the pictures disappear a third of the way through, but I like to think that finishing this post on this day and setting it upon the internet like some grossly mutated abomination of science released into the city is a renewal of our (your father's and my) vows of ULTIMATE HETEROLIFEMATESHIP. And so, without further preamble...
A DAY IN THE LIFE OF ME
Unlike Emily's posts** I will now cop out of any subject remotely relevant or entertaining by basically outlining the inherent tragicomedy of my life.
**(full name used here out of respect. I know Emily kindly addressed our mutual understanding about our hetero lifemate status in her last post, but I feel like I must explain the use of "Em" in context, to better illustrate just what type of absolute misanthrope I am:
This is exactly how it went.)
ACT 1: MORNING
After the first, blissful haze of sleep, I a) remember all the homework I didn't do the night before; b) feel the sudden urge to skip the next four classes in favor of more sleep; c) have to use the bathroom; and d) curse myself from about 10 hours ago for not doing my homework or going to the bathroom, in favor of interwebz. This is usually followed by a useful morning mental exercise I like to call "Rationalize the Time." This is how you play:
1. When your first alarm rings (the night before you've played Rationalize the Time as well and have set up a series of safeties in the morning) blearily look at it, register nothing, turn it off, and go back to sleep.
2. Half an hour later, when the second alarm rings, look at it with annoyance and slight recognition, and go back to sleep.
3. Have fitful half-dreams for the next half hour when your subconscious realizes that you've overslept the safety alarms and there's no hope of studying/writing/finishing the essay.
4. The final alarm rings, usually two or three hours prior to class start. Wake up fully while it rings, stare at alarm in horror for a minute, and then turn it off. If the alarm is in the cellphone, grasp cellphone and close eyes without actually sleeping.
[Emily here. I'm going to go ahead and break into this right now before 'the game really begins' and let you know that Sameera has leased me as an event illustrator. (Because..what she was just blogging about is, in actuality, happening right now in her life, and she needed time to try and stave it off.) In other words, I'm going to badly draw her morning for you, and maybe try to offer some insight into her being. Because, I'm sure while reading this, you might think that she can't really be as bad as she says she is - but Sameera has never told a lie. She really is that bad. So let's DO THIS. Oh, and if it's bold, that means it's an outside party - in this case, me. Because..somehow I figure this will happen again in the future.]
5. This is where the game really begins. At first, you close your eyes and take catnaps for five minute intervals, savoring every moment in your warm, fluffy sheets. Then, when you've realized you've done this for the last 20 minutes, you begin to rationalize the amount of time it will take to do certain tasks. These include, but are not limited to, brushing teeth, taking a shower, changing clothes, eating breakfast, and studying/starting/finishing a paper. For instance - let's say that you have a class at 11 and your final alarm is set for 8:00. By around 8:30 your reasoning goes something like this: Oh crap I can't believe it's already 8:30 omg I really, really have to use the bathroom now ok so here's what I'm going to do. Get up and brush teeth - 5 mins, shower - 10 mins, clothes - 1 min, breakfast - 10 mins. Ok so what that's five plus ten plus one plus ten so that's twenty plus six that's twenty six ok so by around 9:50 I should be done with everything ok so that leaves me from 10 to 11 but it takes about ten minutes to get to class, fifteen if I'm walking slow and want to get there before the exam starts, so ok I'd have about 45 mins to study. That's ok right I totally know my verbs, well, most of them, okay so I'll probably be able to get most of them right - moving on to nouns. Jeez there's a lot of them I'll skim through the chapters and magically retain them all somehow okay so that'll be fine and grammar! Crap grammar I'll just make some flashcards real quick and study them on the way to class. But I don't want to look retarded on the way to class crap what am I going to do?
6. By this time, it's about 8: 40, and although you're already ten minutes behind schedule you operate as though it's still 8: 28. This means that when you next look at the clock you really do only have about 10 minutes to get to class.
7. You flip open your book and skim four chapters and five weeks' worth of material on the way. This slows you down and by the time you get to class everyone is already sitting down. You haven't changed out of your pajamas or washed your face.
8. You freak out, have a mini mental breakdown and stare at your exam sheet, all the while imagining vaguely your grandparents shaking their heads in disappointment. Slowly, you regain feeling in your hand and begin to make educated guesses. You mark all the questions you are not sure you got correct, but soon begin to rationalize those as well.
9. By the end of the exam you've rationalized that you haven't done that badly, really, and even congratulate yourself on a job - if not well - done. You don't think of how you've possibly just failed it and go get some much-needed lunch (breakfast didn't happen.) After lunch you break down because time away from the exam and a cursory look through the book has shattered your previous fragile confidence in how you did, telling you that no, the substantive adjective is in fact not the direct object of the verb, and you cry softly into your quasi-healthy meal of lettuce and pizza.
~~~FIN~~~ end of Part I.
ON TO PART II
After lunch, the sleep you haven't gotten last night tries to catch up with you but you still have other classes to go to. You do some quick math in your head and decide that it's best to just skip the one class that never has anything due in it in order to regroup. After class you find out that you had something due in it, emergency email the teacher and try to drop off whatever it is in the office before they leave. I like to call this game "Rationalize the Professor." it's like "Rationalize the Time" except this time your opponent is your teacher's patience instead of the clock. This game is a little simpler because it mainly consists of:
a) counting the number of times you've been absent before. if the number is less that three, you're still in
b)counting the number of times you've turned things in late/haven't turned anything in at all when it's due. If the number is less than or equal to two you're still in.
c) If your numbers add up to something less than 5, you're still good. This means that the teacher probably hasn't made a special note of you as a "bad student" but also won't be too surprised that you're trying to turn in something so clearly after it's due.
d) Run haphazardly towards the office in the most disheveled manner possible. This may or may not include a slew of papers slipping out of your folder as you run up the stairs and the panting in your voice when you ask for the office number of your professor.
e) Try to regain dignity and walk to the professor's office even though the recent physical activity is the most you've had all year, all the while hoping that the professor isn't there. If they are there, then babble for some time about your five congenital diseases that caused you to miss class and miraculously cured themselves enough to allow you to come running to the office. Said professor then smiles vaguely and gives you a Look, and both leave content in the knowledge that if this ever happens again, you are going to fail the class.
f) If the professor is not there by some chance of fate, but you know they're still on campus, throw the paper onto their desk after practically forcing the secretary at gunpoint to time-stamp it and flee with your life. This is the preferred method because you no longer have to deal with this until next class, which isn't until Thursday.
This is around the time that some experience Early Onset Self-Loathing. Unfortunately, you still have a few classes to go before you can go back to your room and suitably distract yourself from your life with Netflix, so this means you must get a cookie to calm your nerves. Five short boxes of cookies later, you are ready to face the world once more.
Fin~~~end Part 2
PART III:
The next few classes are a little better, and since your stomach is starting to rebel against that 40th oreo you've got plenty of distractions to keep you from thinking about the gravity of the situation (i.e. that you are failing all of your classes). While trying to stay awake amidst the monotone stylings of your latest professor (who, for some reason, seems strangely fixated on the more bloody aspects of the Norman Conquest), you miss out on a few essay assignments and test dates. But that's another story for another time. When class finally ends, you jet out of there as fast as possible and beeline to the dorm, where you promptly throw down your books and settle down for a nice, long night with your computer.
It's around this time (about 6 PM), when the self-loathing really kicks in. First you work yourself into a mood by indulging in some loathing majorly. This includes, but is not limited to:
1) comparing yourself to the ill-used heroine in the latest book you've read
2) convincing yourself that you're really a genius that's just lazy
3) convincing yourself that you have a certain number of tragic disabilities or issues that keep you from doing your work. This works on another level because it's secret and no one else knows about it and if your professors knew they'd love you and say how brave you are for existing in this world.
4) Nobody. Nobody understands. They don't know you! They can't. Life is like a box of chocolates and you? You're stuck with the nougat.
5) This is when you usually start being homesick for your parents/house/pets for absolutely no reason.
6) Those orphans, man. Those orphans in like, Africa. They like, they don't even have chairs. Look at you. You're sitting in a chair. You ungrateful - you - you don't even deserve this chair. You know who do? Those Africans. Those African orphans deserve that chair.
7) Why, God, why???!!!!! *sniffffffff* WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN. I HATE YOU GOD. YOU HEAR THAT?! I HATE YOU.
8) Right, so. About that last one. Sorry, God, sorry, you know how it is. I mean you don't, but you do. Right? Right. So. That's never happening again. Ever. Believe me. I swear this time. You're like, the best person. You're not even a person. You're the best omniscient spiritual and universal presence that exists outside of space-time. Are we cool again? Awesome. Okay. Because, because you see, there's this test that I took. And I know I didn't study and I came late and I didn't do well on it but then I had to skip my next class because I was tired but something was due there and I think I missed most of my last class because I think I blacked out but the important thing is that I took it, and you're awesome. So if you could find it in your big, omniscient space-time heart, could you please, please let me pass it? If not for me, then for my parents. Thanks.
9) Nobody. Nobody knows. Not like you do. They can't possibly know.
Promptly drown your fears in apple juice (or your preferred poison) and reminisce on every past instance of failure you've had. After a while you feel a little better and console yourself with some netflix. You fall asleep, but not before emptying your refrigerator and putting it in your stomach.
FIN.
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