"I'd rather be damned for my own beliefs, than be damned for someone else's." ~Shake

Is this just fantasy? Thou livest. That was a pretty sick way to have fun, and drinking and driving will get you into a ton of trouble. Bastard. I love you, and try not to get hospitalized again. And definitely don't die.

Run From Hell
It is Thursday morning. As I sit in Chemistry, I groan, realizing that I still don't have the TI-83 that I had used to calculate my average after that 22/35 on the Chem lab. Disgusted, the pressure of the day dawns upon me. As I head to my once-per-six-day-cycle second period free, I know what I must do. Arriving in the library, I waste my only non-lunch free period by forging a Works Cited page for a French project that was in fact, due the day before. The rest of the period is devoted to playing Chinese Chess with Patrick.

It gets worse. The bell rings, and I hastily exit the library, remembering that all of the crap I need for Jerry is in my locker. As I get it, I discover that his class is in the Mac lab... the location of which is a mystery to me. As I barely get in before the bell rings, I am confronted with the task of writing a thesis essay on a subject I had never spent any time studying. I set to work, trying to fill my essay with something that Jerry would consider "arguable".

As I leave the lab, mortified, my mind switches gears. After a typical warmup routine of me banging my head against Grucela's desk, I proceed with the history test... naturally, this test is the first one with a bunch of questions the answers to which I didn't already know. After a massive essay and a hand cramp, I turn in my test after the bell rings.

Running forth, I recall that I don't have a graphing calculator. Grateful that I had managed to procure a scientific calculator in its place, I whip it out before beginning the Trig test, which was easily the hardest one yet. I turn my test in about a minute after the bell rings, rushing the last page completely. It turns out the calculator apparently lied many times, and along with a whole crap load of stupid mistakes, led to an 82 as a final result.

Finally, I say to myself, fine, ffffine. It's almost over. French class... the final test of will. If you have been paying attention to this site for the past week, then you probably know my feelings on the class. After enduring an inordinate amount of unruly and disorderly conduct from "Honors students" as well as a few torturously long presentations, my chance arrives to redeem myself. I present my project, a 100% black and white, paper timeline with grease stains and crappy hand-drawn illustrations. Despite all of the stupid mistakes I noticed in those presenting before me, I find that I make many of those exact same errors in my usage of the French language. The humiliating presentation comes to an end, and as the class ended, I walked into the lunch room, unwinding, experiencing a much-needed freedom.

It was a bad day.

Fall From Grace
Today was not much of an improvement. It's what you'd call an up-and-down day, with a rotating high-stress and low-stress cycle. I again partook in Chem early in the morning, unequiped with any sort of graphing calculator, and immediately I was presented with a quiz for which I had no sort of preparation. After shakiliy passing it in, the rest of class is a chance to blow some steam and relax.

Eileen is next. I confront the physical education period with a feeling of dread. Fortunately I skip the warmup routine with a trip to the nurse's office. It turned out to be quite a gratifying period, perfect for stress relief, though a bit too involved with movement. But I was grateful. Had I not had that break, I can only surmise what would've happened in Jerry.

Feeling smart, I actually arrived to Jerry's on time today - before the bell even rang, in fact. As I swaggered in, Jerry presented me with a paper. "PC lab, 178W" he said, and as I walked out, I wondered why he had given me the blessing of using a PC and being in a room in which he was not present. Foolish me... the answer was so obvious. Being his most hated student, I had taken this as a blessing, a courtesy. But instead, I discovered that 178W was about two minutes' walk away from the Mac lab. And when I arrived, time was wasted before anyone let us in. Frantically typing, I worked up a storm of an essay, involving many sophomoric phrases and pathetically obvious ideas. Nevertheless, there I was, high stress, finishing up an essay. At 9:58 a.m. the bell rang. Trying to disregard it, I fail and hastily draw my expository piece to a close. I wrap it up at 10:00, but naturally, the printing process and exit process is long and tedious. I waste at least five minutes printing it out and searching for what I was to give the lady supervisor before I leave the room.

At 10:07, I apprehensively enter the history room, sapped of energy. Shaking my head as I sink in, I am pleased to discover that the majority of the class is to be spent watching stupid videos. And while these videos are stupid, they are also educational, fun, and above all, brainless. I take my rest for the period, but all is not well, for upon entering Trig class, I discover that I got an 82 on the aboveforementioned test. My first test without a graphing calculator. The loss of 18 points exceedmy combined loss of points across the entire first term.

French class is spent recovering from this shock. My headache refuses to leave my as I consider the obnoxious giggling and screeching about me. Finally I force it recede; I spend the rest of class relaxing and eating food brought in by some of the presenters. Feeling that the heat will finally let up, I stroll into the cafeteria. And a highly stressful, terrible day gets worse when I realize that Kevin has a free seventh today. After enduring several painstaking card games in which Kevin indulged himself, I hope and pray to God (or, since I'm Atheist, the cotton swab) (or even better yet the Math Spirits) (Though I haven't pleaded to them for help since that beastly factoring problem in Veley) that the day will get better.

After some class last-minute touches to a crap-jobbed Bio homework assignment, I sit back to watch a completely boring and senseless movie. There seems to be an underlying reason for which we study this film, but it is lost upon me in my recuperative state. Salvaging my spirit, I endure the video and depart class upon the ring of the bell.

And then, miraculously, it happens. I dodge him. I begin to walk home, and it is almost the perfect situation, but it is behind me. If only I have the courage or spirit or skill to fall back a little, I may be able to make the defining move of the day. But my nerve fails me; the chance slips out of my hands, and I fail to make the check mate. He plays a role in this failure today, causing me rushed departure ... but I feel defeated, not by he, but by my own inner demons. I am finished, wiped, and now I can only await my next golden opportunity.

The final step of the fall from grace.

But should I not succeed before time runs out, then this day shall be forever condemned within my history, within this short, pathetic life of mine. My cowardice and excessive conservatism may lead to my downfall yet. Till then, stay tuned..