maybe there's something wrong with life. but there's something wrong with me as well.
written: 11:19 p.m. on Friday, Apr. 28, 2006

I was getting started on desperately copying-and-pasting take-into-exam-lecture-theatre (I can't believe I'd be attempting to write an exam in a bloody LT on that tiny little slab of plastic that's supposed to be a "table" but is actually a non-table) for Seminar 15, Abetment and Conspiracy (which I know nothing about), when I stopped and thought...well, fuck, why bother?

So I only have notes for Seminars 1 to 14. The remaining three? I'm hoping like hell that I won't have to deal with them in my answers.

I re-found out that the exam is 2 hours and 30 minutes, three questions in total. Which means I'd spend about an hour and fifteen minutes on homicide and divide the rest between...the rest, which means I won't really have to write a lot for the other two, which is kind of okay with me 'cause the only topic I know something about is Homicide.

Ultimately, all signs are pointing to me barely passing bloody Criminal Law. Or maybe I'd be like Cliff McCormick of Veronica Mars who "failed Criminal Law". Hmm, there's a definite possibility for you.

And instead of trying to save my butt, I'm here typing an entry about how screwed I am. Talk about digging an even bigger grave for MH to bury me alive in.

Also, all thanks to tomorrow's screwed up NINE A.M. exam, I can't watch my fully-downloaded episode of VM. I'm trying very hard to ascertain if I'm still me, because I, Yelen am putting off watching a new Veronica Mars for a law school exam. Colour me flabbergasted.

Or not. I suppose it boils down to survival instincts.

Or not. More likely, it's a matter of pride.

Or wait, no, that's not it. Could it be because I need to wake up at 7.30 a.m. tomorrow morning? Ah...that's it.

Fuck. I don't know what else to say anymore, except...fuck. A thousand times over, and then a thousand times somemore. I hate that I have to take exams, I hate that I'm in law, I hate that I can't watch VM tonight, I hate that I have to force myself to read like 34375262752 more fucking powerpoint slides.

But above all else, I hate that I did all of the above to myself, thinking I could get away with it. Or not even thinking of the consequences, not thinking at all. What happened to that organ of mine called a brain? Maybe it's still there, alive, but it's been irreparably damaged, assailant unknown.

So hard to point the finger away from yourself when you know better than that.

before sunrise // before sunset


Previously:
- - Tuesday, Aug. 29, 2017
I'm moving. - Sunday, Jul. 11, 2010
In all honesty - Tuesday, Jul. 06, 2010
What I want for my birthday... - Sunday, Jul. 04, 2010
On Roger's behalf. - Friday, Jul. 02, 2010