Bismillah!

Last night, I was allegedly studying for an exam. In theory. In reality, I was trying to get several mrRB strips down on paper. The problem, mind you, wasn't forgetting them, but remmbering them. Specifically, the mnemoic(funny word!) I used. It was described in the magazine I read as a technique for remmebering one's grocery list; simply imaginge each item in one of ten locations, moving upward from one's feet. I don'[t remmber the locations, but I use it anyway. The toes on my right foot are glowing, there's a bandanna wrapped around my left big toe with the word "unlimited" on it, a baby rattle sticking out of my right ankle, a flyer flapping against my left, a coupon stuck to my right calf, a red scarf wrapped around the left, and both a stick and a penis sticking out of my right knee. And no, I will not explain. You'll have to read the comic.

Nonetheless, I basically sktched out outlines until EVA came on. I had already brushed my teeth and stuff, and was pretty much asleep by the time the show was over. Did I mention that my fandom has serious Daddy issues? And overabundance of obscure symbolism? But mostly serious Daddy issues?

I realized that I was too zoned to even start studying-yes, I'm that lazy-and decided to wake up early in the morning. And so, a whole half-hour before my usual wakeup time, I got up and studied the lone column of Marx. Great. Done, time to check my Gmail.

After arrving at the midterm a clean half-hour late, I took the test paper. We had a choice between outlining Marx's theory of social equality and class struggle, among other things, or writing about Freud's theories of development. Freud was a freak, and the info had only been given orally by the teacher, and I hadn't made notes, and I was to lazy to look it up online, and I wasn't going to study anyway, so I didn't do that one. So I wrote half a page, and took it up to the teacher.

"Did you say do one or both?"

"I said choose one."

"I apoligize for writing so little then, but I just don't think there's that much to say." I had written everything I could remember from my cramming studying.

"This...is too short."

"It said outline."

"You need to elaborate."

"I don't see what else there is to say."

"Well, if you're sure..."

I was sure, and I was acutely aware of the titters behind me. I wasn't the first in the room to finish, but I was making the largest spectacle. As I walked to the door, thinking that I needed an exit line, she called out after me "You won't pass the course like this!"

I paused.

"But I can try."

There was the usual half-second gap, then the class started laughing. It didn't matter if I made myself look like an idiot; I got the last word.

Truth be told, I am honestly worried about my chances of finishing this class; we have no assignments but for exams and the term paper, which I should've started. And the teacher just reads from the book in class. If...when I fail the midterm, that's at least a quarter of my grade, gone.

My problem is that I don't have the willpower to get myself to study. In fine; I slack off until it's too late. That's why, despite my potentially genius level intellect*, I have only once reached the Honour Roll.

I understand the need to study, but I simply can't motivate myself to do it, short of taking a hiatus from the Internet until April. And then all of next term. And until the end of my academic career.

I don't even need to be taking Sociology; I'm a Comp. Sci. major, for cryin' out loud. Nor to I need to be taking Finite Math, which, like all Higher Math, has no practical use everyday life whatsoever. I should've suspected it from the "Finite" which is Acadamia for "built on concepts you learned years ago and forgot which we will now reteach you in order to teach you new concepts which will not work no matter how hard you try and the text book is useless and the teacher too aimiable to ask for help".

I don't even need to take either of those courses; my brother pressured me into adding them to fill out my schedule. The onlt courses I need to take are Intro to Programming and Computer Applications 2, whcih, among other things, involves learning how to design web sites in Word. Yes, I know. Observers tell me blood started to trickle out of my nose.

More on that, and what else I've been up to, later.

*My parents refuse to tell me what my IQ is, other than it being well-above average.

//no, we will not let him go!

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