Mad that I’m narcissistic enough to write a mad post
I’m mad at my school advisors for giving me false hope about graduating early, about giving me this proposition to internalize and accept and then taking it away because they’re disorganized. I’m mad that they don’t even pretend to support the notion of graduating early. Mad that I’ve been listening to Fuck You by Lilly Allen for the past three days and cannot walk around without the poppy “Fuck You Very Much” chorus polluting all my other thoughts. Mad the room smells like hummus. Mad that the weather is too nice and clear for me to ever make use of this umbrella hat. Mad that my univariate stats professor sounds like the mom on Bobby’s World. That I didn’t get enough sleep last night.
And I’m mad that it’s 70 degrees and lovely and that I sat on the porch swing today for an hour and read and still am not happy.
