03.07.06; Jumping, Jumping; 00:37
Latest heartbreak: Being unable to do astral walk last Friday so I can report to work, attend this year’s Fete de la Musique and attend firefloss‘s birthday bash all at the same time. Latest music to my ears: Grey’s Anatomy OST and Ben Harper.
It sucks to realize that the pattern only a pundit like me can make sense of was nothing but another case of coincidence misinterpreted as a sign. The past two semesters convinced me that the first day of class is an overrated requirement that subjects poor saps like me into fruitless snorefest or unnecessary que horror. Yet highly rewarding for the absentees. So why bother show up?
Last, last Tuesday, I did. Either I had another masochistic urge or possessed by the need to flaunt my Talipanan tan, I braved the heavy rains to attend my class. Unfortunately, our professor was somewhere in New York. With balled fists, I counted the amount of money I wasted and the number of hours I should have spent dreaming away at a friend’s igloo. My fellow classmates and I agreed to call the office on Friday before going the distance for nothing.
Friday noon witnessed me scour countless shops for some much-deserved retail therapy. By the time my classmates informed me there will be a class, I had already downed bottles of vodka and fallen captive to the lure of immobility. My final words? "Cheers to Statistics!"
Statistics, damn it, is the sole subject I have long anticipated to be my waterloo. Considering I lack the mental acuity and I have 2 more planned absences throughout the semester, I might as well come up with underhanded methods to survive it.
Written in long hand: 19.06.06; Lazy Ladee; 11:28