Frenzied studying and wayward distractions

whenen you read this blog, you might pause to think that this is yet another agonising adolescent. Let me tell you something, I'm no more (gulp) an adolescent. My teenage years, though not so long ago were the most fun years of my short yet very eventful life. Heck, I was every teacher's nightmare in school, and have toned down to be a respectable nerd in the years since. I'm about as temperamental as a sleeping dragon about to be poked in the eye. Venting out pent up anger on unfortunate passersby is a very regrettable trait, that I have honed up to a level where it can be recognised as an art. I can make a person believe that whatever happened is entirely their fault even if whatever happened took place before they were born (Ok thats exaggeration, another trait of mine.) My frequent escapades into the parallel universe has left me with a glazed expression, and I distinctly don't see the point of laughing at my economics teacher's jokes ( I don't see how that was relevant but I had to write it down).

So, the exam timetables are out and I don't even have all the notes and whatever notes that I do have, I don't remember it being taken in class. All I can think of, is this book that I read lately, "The colour purple", an excellent read, I do not recommend it to the over emotional and the weak hearted. The sheer agony of what is written in that book can leave you drained for the next couple of weeks. While I read the book, my wiser and infinitely more admirable classmates got their notes and had it organised. When I got around to it, the syllabi and the quantity left me reeling. I ran helter skelter all around college, grabbed the nearest nerd ( yes, I did mention that I am a nerd, but these girls are the ones with the "nerdier than thou" expressions and the proof to back it up) and issued death threats until she gave me all her notes. "Gangway!! To the nearest xerox shop". To my utter dismay, there was Q of girls there, long enough to beat the great wall of China. After what seemed like a million years, I get all my notes. But who can study with so many distractions, don't tell my mum, she'll rip my heart right out. "Focus, focus." I have to keep telling myself that everyday. Everyone keeps calling me to tell me how much they've completed and I have not yet begun.

With the exams looming dangerously up ahead on the horizon, I can do nothing but cram. And when the bridge is reached , upset a bag of trash over the troll underneath and march confidently across it. Sigh. Some days you are the pigeon, some days the statue.