I woke up today with a monster headache... the kind that instantly has you close-eyed groping for Excedrin... or *beg pray beg* morphine, whichever you lay your hands on first (damn, it's Excedrin), and then you call your primary care physician for a referral to a neurologist cause you're positive your brain is milliseconds from exploding inside your skull like Gallagher thought it was a watermelon, or you stumbled onto the set of a Michael Bay movie.
Yeah, one of those headaches.
And yet, it still was a better day than I was having last week, so ya know, trying to be grateful. Because my friend from elementary school kinda scolded me on facebook earlier for not be thankful that my Environmental Science teacher seems to no longer be reading my assignments, but simply giving me hundreds with mini-comments like great job.
While I'd like to think that I am a decent writer, that last assignment was phoned-in at best, so getting the hundred was almost saying to me, "Hey, thanks for taking the time to do the research and write 1000 words in APA format with a title page, citations, and references on a topic that you'd rather eviscerate yourself than give a scintilla of a damn about, and turn it in on a Friday instead of a Sunday like every other class you've taken, all during the week that your cousin died, but I just can't be bothered reading this cause I have 20 some-odd students, so GREAT JOB!"
So I said that next time, I'm going to write about the problem with bodies of salt water is that there are too many Salt-Water Taffy manufacturers out there; just to see if this guy is paying any attention whatsoever. And my friend reminded me to be grateful.
And she was right.
Even if I wasn't in the 'grateful' frame of mind. I was a little ashamed for bitching about a full point scored paper.
To quote myself, "If that's the worst thing to happen to me today, I'm in great shape!"
But sometimes, you are just not in the place to take great advice~ even if it's from yourself.
Sometimes when your brain goes into Inspirational-Poster mode, you just want to tell it to shut the hell up cause your Give-A-Damn went running from the building like it's hair was on fire and you're not sure you've got the give-a-damn left to make coffee.
And yet, surprisingly... I had enough give-a-damn left to bitch at people.
Sometimes, I amaze me.
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