The weather. Really? My return from spring break felt promising weather-wise. The sun was shining, the snow melted away, the temperature pleasant. Days later, I leave my apartment for classes, naively wearing light clothing assuming to face a sunny afternoon. I could not have been more wrong. After walking through the muddy, rainy streets to class, my mood quickly declined. During my third class, I began strongly considering skipping the section that followed. Lecture ended, and I stepped into the great outdoors.
It was snowing.
This pretty much solidified my decision to skip class like Britney does bail. I’m about tired of the weather and its bipolar tendencies. It’s practically April, Earth. Get with the program. And you wonder why we poison you with garbage and ozone destroying CFC’s. It’s because you give us attitude. Attitude in the form of springtime blizzards and lip-chapping winds. You stop, and we’ll stop.
Apparently my body is iron-deficient. I was denied the right to donate plasma this afternoon for the second time in two weeks because my iron was too low. Apparently I need to start sprinkling nails in my cereal. This is $80 that I’ve missed out on because my blood is gay. I’ve even been taking vitamins that claim to provide 100% of my daily iron needs, but to no avail. After being rejected at BioLife, I angrily drove over to Wal-Mart to purchase some iron supplement pills. Upon my arrival to White Trash America, I realized I did not have my wallet.
Tomorrow, Kehly “destruction is my middle name” Hansenite and I will be driving our asses up to Ames in celebration of Jamie’s day of birth, or cumpleanos if you’re from Tijuana. The itinerary for the evening probably looks something like David Hasselhoff’s itinerary every day for the past four years.
Buckle your seatbelts.
“The Flavor of Love 3, sponsored by First Response pregnancy tests.”
I hate that man. And his mouth. And his hair.
And his skin color.
Kidding. Don’t shoot.
“I’m strongly considering not going to class.”
“Is that what Jesus would do?”