See, tomorrow afternoon, I have to make a presentation in front of my Public Speaking class. I have to bring some sort of object that's special to me (something that represents my past, if I remember correctly) and discuss it. I also have to talk about someone who is important/influential in my life (and why) and my favorite quote (and why).

This throws me into panic mode for two reasons:

a) I have that small problem with public speaking, remember? I forget to breathe.

And b) I have no clue what object I'll bring or who the most influential/important person in my life is. And I now have less than 24 hours to figure this out, hence the panicky-type Jess. See, I'm pretty sure who the most important person in my life is (don't we all?). I'm just not sure what to say about him. And wouldn't I get some weird looks when, after everyone has gotten up and talked about their most influential/important people as being people they've known for years (or all their lives), I get up and mention that mine happens to be someone I've only known for 7 months. Wait.. Why the fuck am I worrying over whether or not I get weird looks? Haven't I gotten enough of those by now to just be used to them? Let's just ignore I made that particular statement, okay?

In other news, today was my first day off in weeks. I was able to just sit around all day and do absolutely nothing even remotely productive. This makes me happy as I've missed days like this so very, very much. And what's really awesome is that I get to do this on every Tuesday from now on! Lovely, no?

Other things that make Jess panicky: The fact that I have to read the first chapter and short story for English Comp II tomorrow but haven't even started yet. I have my book sitting in front of me, as I type this, opened up to chapter one. I'm just not getting anywhere.

I guess I really don't see any enjoyment coming out of my reading a chapter on how to fucking read. In what fucked up universe does that seem logical? I'm 19 years old, for fuck's sake. My reading comprehension skills are pretty much as developed as they're ever going to fucking get. Also, our english instructor has this stupid little idea that we have to keep a "reading journal" or something really fucking retarded like that. She then will hand out little sheets of paper for each story, asking us questions that we're supposed to ask ourselves while we're reading the particular short story and/or poem. I find that to be a complete waste of my time. This entire course is literary critical analysis and I really don't see why I need to take it to graduate. I've been reading constantly for the past 17 years of my life. I know how to do so quite well and I'm fairly certain that I will never, ever need to write a critical essay in my future profession. Waste. Of. Time. Someone please just shoot me.

And as an ending note, both Haloscan and Lovingyou.com can suck my nonexistant dick. Half the fucking time, my little "Love quote of the day" will say "[an error occurred while processing this directive]". What the fuck is up with that? And Haloscan? Yeah, my template hasn't been changed since I inserted the coding in for my comments page and now it's suddenly broke. Fuck you both.

Wow, I'm a happy Jess today, huh?

past - future