So I gave myself a limp, was forced to break and enter, and sob and cry and look pathetic all in the name of getting my homework done. So I was working in the lab on my photo collage. I was kicked out since I can’t be there after hours, So I pack up my things and leave.
In the chaos of disassembling and packing up my project (which is bigger then me btw) I forgot to pack up my charger. Since I was there after hours anyways I ran back as quickly as possible only to find the door locked and my thumbdrive with the essay I was working on inside.
Disheartened I meet up with my friend in the dorm computer lab and dump of my things and I aquire a lab montior ID (from another friend of mine) who has 24 hour acess to the lab I was in.
I rush back, only to find THE ENTIRE BUILDING LOCKED! This fucking essay which is due tonight was locked up in the building. I knock on the door and the janitor sees me and walks away.
I then proceed to kick and scream and punch at the door, resulting into me crying and sobbing and slinking to the pavement. Go panic attacks yay! :D Luckily some random person walked by to ask me if I was okay. I say no and out of pure survival need (I AM NOT PROUD OF THIS!) I ham up my actual crying and exagerate it. I tell her my story, and we both knock on the door together. This time the janitor actually opens the door.
She tells me the building is closed (I know this haha) but I explain my situation and with this random strangers help I tell her I have an ID with 24 hour acess to the lab and continue to look sad and pathetic and just helpless. She caves and let’s me in.
I run like a bat out of hell and grab my flashdrive. I almost made out with it. X____X So I FINALLY return my friend’s ID and go to my other friend in the computer lab. Now all the computers there are taken so I can’t even finish the rest of my work to begin with. So now I am here in another computer lab.
The next time someone tells me that Graphic Design sounds like fun I will cut a bitch and rip out their entrails. I am not a happy camper, and don’t give me hugs. For your own safety LORD Please back away.
For the past several years, the great Cheryl Lynn, a.k.a. Digital Femme, has been talking extensively about black female characters and creators in comics. She comes at the issue from a place that is both just and informed, and she makes devastatingly good points on those…
I respect your point of view and see it as something completely legitimate. But sometimes you all say some really harmful things and I really have to address them because where I can see you coming from a completely valid perspective,…
I could be hunting for the things I’m supposed to bring back to school with me!
I could be wrapping presents!
I could make that list of video games Mom asked me for!
I could be reading Tomb of Dracula!
Nope I’m gonna sit here on the internet and eat ice cream sandwiches.
This, this so much. How do I pull the, “professor your behavior triggers traumatic experiences from my childhood and effects my schoolwork” routine without it feeling like a cop out? I really hate this. I’ve always had this problem talking to professors because I really think I’m just over reacting emotionaly until it turns into a huge deal.
I skipped her class, since I knew the photos I took were the wrong color palate and that there was no point in going if I had no piece to properly critique. I intended to take more photos during that class time but I ended up having a panic attack in my room and falling asleep.
I have all the photos I took, cost 50 bucks don’t want to waste 50 bucks but I don’t know how to incorporate them. The house is finally quiet andrew stopped playing zelda, mom and dad stopped arguing sisters are asleep so I don’t need to counsel them, so I can finally work.
Although I don’t want to. This whole adult thing makes me sick sometimes. I hate this I don’t want to do this but I have to. I just have to I can’t screw this up, I have to do this to get out of here.