rasafrasa.

I really, really just want to scream this post's title at the top of my lungs right now.

That's my frustrated word. Some people prefer to cuss, I like to make things up.

Why am I frustrated?

Because my life tends to have a flair for the dramatic.
I mean, one minute everything is fine and dandy. I get ahead on homework, I'm not too stressed out, and things are going pretty darn good. Then, life decides to go apeshit on me.

Last Thursday, I had an emotional (read: hormonal) break down to a great friend of mine, who deserves the Congressional Medal of Honor for putting up with me. Then, due to said break down, Friday I was lazy and didn't get a single thing done that needed to be done. Saturday, hung out with my sisters and some friends, but found out the girl I got dumped for turned out to be fan-freaking-tastic and is pretty much living the lowlife right now. Not to go into details, but since this isn't the first time I've been passed over in favor of someone who went on to make stupid decisions, it wasn't exactly an ego boost. Sunday, I missed my sister's bon voyage party to host a hall reunion, where four out of thirty people showed up. And I see most of those four quite regularly. Monday, the Ducks lost (I always have been and always will be an Oregon Duck fan til the day I die) and I got zero homework done (so I get really far behind). Tuesdays always suck, just because I'm so busy I can't think straight. Wednesday, (yesterday), was just not fun. I was rushing to finish homework, I lost my favorite gloves on campus, and I left my thumb drive with the homework assignment due Thursday at work. Thursday (today) I got up late, did awful in Spanish class, didn't really finish my history assignment (needed to write more, but oh well), forgot to bring lunch on campus and didn't have money to buy lunch, was late meeting my mom for coffee, and ended up blowing my tire to pieces while driving to meet my mom. Mom had to rescue me (I had never seen a tire changed before, much less changed my own!), my car nearly didn't start, then we limped over to Les Schwab, where I spent a hundred and sixty-something bucks on not one, but two new tires because my other front tire was on the verge of exploding at any minute. The tire blowing fiasco made me late for work, and now I can't seem to focus on homework so I'm procrastinating by writing this and hating myself for doing so. Now, it's time to go home, eat dinner, and lose myself in books.