I hate my
professors. Actually, I hate one professor right now.
Last week: Yes, the final is open book and open note.
This afternoon: What are you talking about? I never said the test was open book ...
Now, you must be anxiously wondering, when is the test? In an hour.
I have offically reached the "fuck it" point - the one every finals-taking student gets to where they just wonder "What good will this do me? I'm screwed anyway."
So, they play on their computers and listen to CDs - some even start drinking before the test, just to make it that much more fun to take.
I hate finals.
However, the new development of the cute girl and my newfound ability to ignore how my roommates neglect, abuse, or take advantage of me are both helping me not take to my old theory that there's nothing wrong with me that a clocktower and an automatic weapon couldn't fix.
Countdowns
4 days until finals are done.
8 days until I go back to Montana.
15 days until Hawaii.
I'll make it. I think.