A.U.B.I.E.
Out of Order
So it's finals week, and I have no life again. Not by choice, mind you, but it
seems no one around here wants to stop studying and take a break! It's
disgusting! I really don't buy into the fabled art of cramming. I know what
I know, and whatever I couldn't pick up while spacing out or falling asleep in
class probably wasn't that important. Spending the next twenty three hours
bullDOZEing words and statistics through my already erratic and
overflowing-in-need-of-sleep-consciousness probably would do more harm than
good to my grade anyway.
Besides, I could never take notes. I can't read either, so sitting in cafes
with books and a double cappuccino feels kinda silly. Why am I in college?
It's where all the cute women are, of course, not that I let them distract
me from my most important studies. And besides that, I like to dink around
with words.
The more you suck the more I have to swallow.
I figure I know what I know, so I'll not deceive myself with the brief
insertion of useless facts which I won't remember in two weeks anyway.
It's kind of like my sex life, but you never heard that from me.
So now I'm down to twenty two hours, fifty seven minutes, and counting.
Books all closed. No pressure, no stress, no cares, and my GPA has never
been higher. Of course, I haven't checked in a year, but I sure do feel
better about myself!
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Out of Order