Okay. School today? Not bad at all. Got some stats done. Got En Marcha done. Read some Anna. Was calmer about college apps since I did a shitload of work on them. But then fucking after school. I had to go get shots.
I hate shots. The medical, inoculation kind, not the nice, happy, alcohol kind. Not the jello kind. Not the soccer kind. Like needles. Sharp, pointy needles that hurt. It's not even the hurt. It's feeling them.. inside your skin.... poking around ::shudder::. I hate shots. Like uncontrolably, passionately hate shots. I would rather walk down a street in Bhagdad with my uniform on than get a shot. I would rather babysit children all day than get a shot. I would go to church and litsten to the Johnathan Edwards than get a shot. Well, maybe not that last one. Actually, yes, probably. I hate shots. So much. So I had to get not one, but TWO today. A Tetnus and a Flu shot. Seventeen year olds are not even supposed to get flu shots!!! I think I'd rather get the avion flu virus than get the stupid shot. Being sick is so much less.... ::shudder:: I can't even explain it. It's not the pain I hate, though I'm not a fan of it. It's more like.. the knowledge of this slimy, cold, foreign, metal object violating you, puncturing you, ruining the carefully maintained homeostasis of your body that I hate. And shut up, I know innoculation helps maintain homeostasis. But it's just not natural. It's so weird... so... inexplicably gross. I get all squirmy thinking about it.
Then of course, after getting my shots, I started crying, and the poor nurse woman was like... "um, are you okay?" because how many fucking seventeen-year-olds can't control themselves enough to stop crying when they get shots? Seriously Stef, GROW UP. So I managed to gain enough composure to flee from the horrible, horrible doctor's office, and then started crying non-stop in my car, despite the blissful sounds of Lost Prophets, which just weren't enough to cheer me. When I came home, I consumed about half a gallon (hyperbole) of Higbee's Chocolate Malted with choco chips atop. And just now am I fully gaining self-control. But I still can... feel... ick.. the shots in my arms, and it's making me very, very squeemish. And now my mom's in the room and I just want her TO FUCKING DIE. I want both my parents to because they don't know when to FUCKIGN LEAVE ME ALONE.
And just to make today worse, I found out I got Moran a 33/40 on his ballad. I'm sorry Brian. I suck.
So. Now. If I didn't hate self-inflicted wounds so much, I'd probably slit my wrists. But I have to be honest. I would rather slit my wrists than get another shot.