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stupidfool
yesterday i didn't study. i woke up early, so i would have 2 hours to study, and i was actually awake and everything. but i didn't study. it's some sort of insane mental block, and it drives me crazy. i talked to alana for a while, and i ate, and i talked to brandy online... i watched some of 106 & park. then it was time to go to class, and i went. the midterm was impossible. i don't pay attention in class, and i didn't study at all. i probably got some partial credit on some, and i don't know if i passed or not. i pulled all the answers out of my ass because i had no idea. and i have absolutely no right to complain, either, which is what bothers me the most. i hate when i can't blame it on anybody but me...

a guy from my class talked to me about the midterm on the way to our next class. i don't know him, but i think molly does. he said he thought the test was really hard, and he had studied all the wrong things. he said he was pretty sure everybody else had had trouble too, because when the bell rang, only one or two people had left the classroom, and everybody else was still working. it makes me feel a little better to think that everyone else did bad, because maybe we'll get a curve...

then i went to work. kelly is pregnant, for sure, and she won't shut up about it. she went from being distraught to being shove-it-in-your-face proud in two days. she says stuff like, 'i can't lift that, because i'm pregnant.' can you really not lift stuff when you're like 2 months pregnant? i thought that didn't really count until you were at least pregnant enough that it was visible...

marie came in and went through self-check, which i was running. i kept closing her station while she was trying to use it, just because she always does that to me. i finally let her finish, and she said bye to me as she left. i said bye, and then she came back and punched me lightly in the arm and said 'buttmunch.'
i punched her back and said 'bu-bu-what you said.'
she laughed and said i was mean for not letting her check out, and then she went to leave for real, and i called after her, 'but you do that to me 80 million times!'
she laughed and left. not good enough. that was not good enough, and it never is.

then i started to feel a little sick... and then i started to feel a lot sick... and then i just felt awful. my stomach felt like it was in a blender and my temperature was crazy. i was hot in spots and cold in spots and i just wanted to warm up and cool off, all at once. my hands were nearly numb, but when i touched them to my face, my face felt like fire. i wanted to take a shower because i felt like it might thaw me out and warm me up so i was at the same temperature. and i wanted to keep pressure on my stomach, because that made it feel a little better. so i was standing up at self-check, leaning my stomach against the counter and hugging myself to stay warm and sweating from the heat... every time somebody needed help and i had to stop leaning on the counter, i thought my stomach was going to erupt. every time i took a step, i thought my stomach was going to erupt. so finally, i decided i needed to go home. theoretically, i should ask terrie, but i thought i might have better luck asking somebody else, like teena or art. so i went up to the service desk and asked teena, 'can i go home?'
teena was counting money and terrie (who i hadn't known was back there) called, 'no.'
i asked, 'can i go on break?'
terrie turned to look at me, and the second she saw me, this look came onto her face... concern. she was worried about me. she asked sincerely, 'are you ok?'
i mumbled, 'i don't feel so good...'
she said, without hesitation, 'sure, you can go on break. i'll run self-check. go ahead,' and she came straight out of the office and went over to run my break.
i went up to the break room, put on a coat, and put 2 chairs next to each other. i knelt on the floor and laid my stomach across the first chair and rested my head on the second. the cool metal of the chair felt good on my face and the pressure on my stomach helped too.
when my break was over, i got up to come back downstairs, and walking was too much. every step jostled my stomach, and it took about 5 steps for me to feel just as awful as i had felt when i asked to go on break. i clocked back in and went over to self-check. terrie asked, 'what's the matter, kid?'
i'm not so good with words... i clutch my stomach silently. she pats the spot on the counter next to her, moves over, and says, 'come on, talk to me.'
i don't know why she made room for me, but i gladly lean my stomach against the counter and mumble, 'i feel splotchy.'
she asked, 'how do you mean?'
i said, 'like hot splotches and cold splotches all over me.'
she told me my face was flushed, and asked if i felt queasy. i hesitated, and then decided that 'queasy' was probably as close as i was going to get to describing the feeling in my stomach, so i said yes. she paged art and told him, 'i think i'm going to send her home... she doesn't look so good... i'm going to have to close self-check, ok?'
then she hung up with him and asked me, 'do you need to go home?'
i nodded, and she told me to go ahead, so i thanked her and left.

i took a shower and i was still hot and cold, so i just went to bed and laid flat on my stomach and put on all the covers. then i took them all off, and then put them back on, and then took them back off... i don't remember ever stopping wrestling with my blankets, but i guess i must have managed to fall asleep by 8 p.m., and i didn't wake up until 10:30 in the morning.

i was a comfortable temperature, and i still felt a little queasy, but it was a lot better, so i stopped to think about last night. the first thing that gets me is that i missed 4 hours of work. after taxes, i make about $6.00/hr, so that's almost $25 i lost by going home. i wonder if there's any time i can make up those 4 hours... maybe matt will let me stay more than an hour or two some night... this paycheck is going to stink... why didn't i just tough it out? and then i wonder if i'm crazy. why am i so obsessed with money? can you be addicted to making money? i seriously think i am. everything revolves around money... if money is the root of all evil, and my life revolves around money, then what's my relationship with evil? something bad, i'm sure.
the second thing that hits me is that terrie was nice. i wonder if maybe i dreamed that, or if it was a hallucination or something... somehow, i've managed to make terrie into this awful beast... she's hot, but she's cruel. i thought she hated me and i thought she was heartless. i figured if she found out i was sick, she would probably just give an evil cackle and tell me 'serves you right,' or something like that... ok, so she's not going to be christine any time in the near future... and maybe she still hates me, but she's not evil. she has a heart. terrie might be an ok person. wow... terrie was nice to me...

i spent the morning e-mailing my parents and talking to alana about scheduling classes. i have to schedule for them thursday. my dad wants to know how much longer i'm going to be in school... and i didn't have any idea, so today, i sat down and made out a plan. i can get out of here in 6 more quarters, and have nearly impossible classloads, or i can do it in 7, and it will be reasonable. i like 7. i know he's going to like 6. so i spent a long time trying to compose an e-mail to convince him that 7 was a better plan...

the fucked up thing about it all is that when i graduate, i don't want to get a real job. i sit here and think about graduation, and i think about how much easier it will be to work these two jobs, and how i won't have to worry about paying for books or tuition, and how i won't have to allow time in my day for classes, so i can sleep whenever i want to... a real job just isn't a part of the plan. i want a break, not a miserable job. i don't know how my parents are going to handle that, when i graduate in 6 or 7 quarters, and they realize that i'm not attempting to find a job...

i went to udf. i worked an 8-hour shift, and i spent almost the entire time going through a huge invoice and stocking the stuff. there was a ton of stuff... i never stopped working on it, but linda kept making comments to the other guy there about how i wasn't helping on register, and how i had been back there forever. i was working harder than either of them because i heard them taking breaks and talking and laughing when there were no customers, and i did nothing but lug around boxes and go through pages upon pages of invoice. i don't mind working hard, but if i'm going to work hard, i don't want to have people accusing me of being lazy. i just wanted to throw it at them and tell them to do it, if they thought it should be so fast...

i came home and i finally felt better enough to eat a little something-just some saltines and water, but i think tomorrow i should be back to normal.

lauren, alana, her boyfriend, and i watched the real world. it was the september 11th episode, and the 4 of us got into a big fight about the american flag. there was a picture of one of the real world girls holding a candle and a flag made out of a thin sheet of plastic. i like to watch plastic melt, so i said, 'i would burn it.'
lauren and alana were appalled. they said it's the flag, and you can't burn that.
i said it's just a piece of plastic, and people have been trained to think that it means america. he was on my side. he said if people wouldn't attatch so much symbolism to everything, they wouldn't be as easily insulted.
they said it's like burning your country, or hating your country.
he said it is just plastic, or cloth, depending on which kind you have, and as long as you know you love your country, how can anybody say that burning a piece of plastic=hating your country?
i say i don't hate my country, but i don't see what a little piece of plastic has to do with my country. if it were painted with the mexican flag, i would still burn it, and i like mexico. if it were painted with my high school mascot, i would still burn it, because it's still just a sheet of plastic, and i still like to watch plastic burn. i would never light america on fire. but to me, the flag is just something we have to stare at while reciting the pledge of allegiance. i just don't feel like the flag is my country.
lauren said it'd be like burning crosses. i told her i've never understood that either. why crosses? why do you have to make a person into an object? do you need something physical to make you believe? if jesus ever existed, he's certainly dead now, so can't he just exist in your head? can't you worship the thought of him? why would you want to pray to a sculpture of a dead guy on a cross when (if you believe in all that) you could bypass the sculpture, and pray straight to him?
they were both pretty upset with us, especially lauren, because she's religious and patriotic, where alana's only patriotic...

by the time the osbournes was over, though, the dispute was all but forgotten. i like when forgiveness comes quickly...

i have a midterm friday. i meant to study this morning, but i didn't. i won't have time tomorrow, so i'm going to have to do it thursday. i will study. i learned my lesson, right?

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