tenlittlebullets | The curse of the 5am paper.

This is fucking stupid. It's 5am, I'm losing my mental faculties half a paragraph away from finishing the French paper I should have done on Saturday, and the entire second half of the paper is fucking bullshit that the teacher will laugh at if she even understands what the hell I'm trying to say. But you know what? It's her own damn fault for making us write about Zola's thoughts on ~~yaoi~~ department stores, and if she doesn't like the fact that I drew a silly conclusion out of the weirdest metaphors in the text, maybe she should've given us something interesting to write about. Like Haussmann. Our unit on Haussmann got contracted down to a single class session and I am pissed. Because I could've been writing a paper about the Paris sewer system, but no, here I am scribbling BS about putrefaction and soulless machines.

At least it'll make my teacher's day more interesting. :D Or, you know, headdesky, as she tries to figure out what I was on when I wrote this.

Also, dammit, Québec Les Mis, you look so awesome and I want to see you so bad, so why do you keep making it hard for me?

(Since I couldn't get a car for a weekend trip, I booked one for the last Tuesday of fall break--only to discover that there's no performances Monday or Tuesday. So now I have to either get aggressive about begging for a ride, or go on a Thursday and miss lab. Gah.)