Hi, I Probably Hate You

Finals Week: A clusterfuck of my life.

• Being late to a job interview because I had stayed up for two days writing a final paper/finishing a portfolio project and subsequently fell asleep in class for twenty minutes instead of leaving to catch the bus.
• Calling the hiring manager to tell him that I was there, only to find out that he was already waiting outside and watching me sprint across the parking lot.
• Having the first words of the hiring manager to me be, “ITS OKAY! YOU CAN STOP RUNNING. ITS TOTALLY OKAY. REALLY.”
• Discovering that the one book I have for my class is not one of the two needed to write the final paper
• Running out of toilet paper
• Having a creepy old man at the bus stop recognize me from work and recite my work schedule.
• In a nervous and awkward panic, I condensed my formerly ten minute final presentation into a 1.5 minute one when the minimum was 3 minutes.
• To kill time, I began fabricating plot points of the movie I was presenting on, only to be regarded with pity, confusion, and “what fuckery is this” by the four people who had seen the movie
• The end.
• Just kidding, I have one more paper to write and I want to kill myself and die in a puddle.

I don’t care how nice your sandals are, or how awesome your tattoo is,

If you have fungus-y, over grown toe nails with fuzz flurrying off of them and unwashed, moldy, ashy feet, no one is going to pay any attention to anything except for your nasty walking stumps.