Friday, December 8
God, I was a fucking retard at work tonight. Let's just say that I got as much sleep as a mother of twelve last night and drained the entire ocean of my vast and bountiful brain mass on one AP history test first thing in the fucking morning. I couldn't handle being cashier; the buttons and functions in the computer just wouldn't register in my mind. Had I been fully aware of my surroundings, I would've been fucking embarassed as hell. But I'm too tired as of now or then to have any emotion, really. The only emotion that permanently, therefore naturally embedded into my mind is narcisicism, however you spell it. One of my co-workers was telling me about herself fucking one of the teachers in her school and as a person who loves to hear of fucked up twisted things, I couldn't remember every other sentence that she said. So basically everything that she told me didn't make sense, up until she had to sum it up all over again to another co-worker who wanted in on the conversation. Actually, it wasn't really much of a fantabuloso conversation because I was incapable of providing any input. Talk about incompetence, Christina.
Tomorrow I have to go to the dreaded mall again to finish my Christmas shopping. I think this time my mom is just going to drop me off and I'll be doing my shit alone. Pretty often I prefer to shop alone, because it's more efficient and I don't have to be dragged around by my friend's or friends' pathetic pit stops at stores such as Hot Topic. Hot Topic are fucking party poopers if I ever see a Mr. Bungle t-shirt in their goddamn shithole. I know everyone has a shithole, but when you
are a shithole, I think you've got a serious problem going on.
Also, I'm a fucking militant speedwalker. I walk as fast as a fucking maniac and when whomever I'm with is a slow fucktard, I would very much like to pull an Axl Rose; because according to my preference, there is absolutely no point in wasting time and plus, it gets fucking boring as hell looking at the same shit all the time because you're moving so slowly - it's a lot like driving. When you drive you want to drive fast, right? Because it's fucking boring and dull, and you want to get to wherever you're going as soon as possible. That's how I like to walk. The purpose of transportation is to get from one place to another. You ain't going to get anywhere by being a goddamn snail or 90-year-old Depend-wearing motherfucker. My mom used to say that I looked like a soldier when I walked. And then I fixed it because I'm not a fucking fascist.
People who just don't get shit done just bother me. You serve no fucking point on this earth. For example, when you're working with a person or persons on a project or task in school or work. You're supposed to work together to get this task done. You work your ass off and you do your portion with the utmost proficiency. Then, when you check on the other person's progress, they're just lagging around like a fucking dumbshit, possibly looking for other people to chat and small talk with. They are in complete denial of doing anything. Shut the fuck up and stop wasting my fucking time. More importantly, they're wasting their own time. Usually these people are of the "stupid" variety.
Alyssa gave me a ride home from school today and believe me, it was such a blessing. Not only was I unwilling to walk in 20-degree weather, but I walk on the main road from which my school's commuters drive and enter/exit into/from the senior parking lot. Motherfuckers like to go 50MPH on a 25MPH road - the one where I walk home at. My fear of walking home has gotten dramatically worse because of an occurance that happened earlier this week. And no, I did not lose a limb yet. Because if I did, I'd be typing this shit on a diamond-encrusted computer.
So, what happened earlier this week was in the morning when my mom and I were backing out of the driveway to take me to school. There's a young girl in a midsize white vehicle loudly and speeding down towards us from up our street. She sees us and starts swerving left and right, trying to decide which way on how to dodge us. Meanwhile, my mom takes it cool and continues getting onto the right side of the road and gently stops the car so that the maniac girl could pass us safely. Instead, the fucking twat drives onto our side of the street, drives onto my neighbor's yard (on my right, and I was sitting passenger), her car is
literally just a foot away from my window and passes us going 50MPH. Out of impulse, I turn around in my seat and look at the back of the bitch's head in her white car as she proceeds speeding down the street. When I turn back around, my mother is still sitting in her seat behind the wheel, speechless at how close the car was from causing a head-on collision. I look back and forth at her and the now empty road, not getting a response for what felt like two whole minutes. She just sat there in complete shock and probably tremendous anger that didn't show as much as the shock did. But yet, neither of us said a goddamn word. She stepped on the gas and smoothly drove me to school in silence.
I could have died that day. But for some reason I wasn't reacting with the typical cursing and flipping out as I typically would. I was infuriated somewhere down inside, murderously. If I had ever gotten a better look at the girl and found her in school (she really looked like a student at my school, I mean keep in mind what time this was in the day and how close I live to my school; she probably was on a rush to go to Dunkin' Donuts or something before the bell rang) or gotten down her license plate number, I think I would've seriously just approached her and decked her front fucking teeth out. And then start screaming curses and eternal damnations at her as she cried held her bloody mouth in pain on the floor. Stupid bitch and any other wreckless and dumbfuck driver out there deserves that kind of a treatment, and perhaps much, much more. They are so fucking stupid that I can't even say anymore. I pretty much draw up a blank at this point.
I am not so much afraid of death as much as I am afraid of being maimed for the rest of my life and carrying the enormous weight of anger and pain for about seventy more years. Even if I did get critically injured and my family sues the girl and her family for hundreds of thousands or even a million dollars and whatnot and rendered me set for life, it still would not fully repair what I would have had lost. Actually, while looking at the big picture, it wouldn't change a thing. There's still at least three million more terrible drivers out there.
