Someday they will make a horror movie after me
I am in the midst of finals, and am seriously regretting this entire semester. I completely slacked off, and am now so far behind I’m struggling just pull off average grades. So basically the past week has involved me waking up, wandering downstairs for a breakfast of coffee, then trekking back up to my bedroom to sit at my desk and work until I get bored and decide to migrate back down to the kitchen for more food.
Today was one of my mega-workload days. I didn’t bother to change or shower, so my hair is in a frizzy bun and I am wearing grey sweatshirt that is 3 sizes to large. I did, however change out of the booty shorts I normally wear to bed (I would prefer to sleep naked, but have a weird fear of having to flee in the middle of the night, so booty shorts are a nice compromise), and instead put on my delightful pair of green paisly leggings (which both my parents have separately deemed to be “slightly creepy”).
Early this afternoon I was sitting at my desk, staring blankly at the same problem I had been looking at for over half-an-hour, when I heard people stomping along our front poarch. I looked out my window which faces out onto our front lawn, but could not see the deck because of the overhang. I was curious about what was going on, but not so curious as to move when the doorbell rang.
I heard my dad get the door, and I quickly pieced together that the people at the door weren’t just solicators—THEY WERE GIRL GUIDES. Usually we just buy two boxes of their delicious chocolate and vanilla sandwhich cookies, but I am in study mode at the moment and desperately wanted needed a third box, all to myself.
I jumped out of my seat and bee-lined it to the stairs. But then I remembered what I looked like. Imagine a modern-day Bertha Mason nearly leaping down the stairs, only to ask her father to indulge her every whim with another box of charity cookies. As soon as the girls handed over the goods, like a phantom of the opera, I would ascend back to my lair with my new secret stash. Our house would be infamous and never again would parents let their children even set foot on our lawn.
Just as I came to the realisation that I could not possibly go down stairs, my brother walked by. I grabbed him and asked: ”can you ask dad to buy another box, since I’m studying and all that?”
My brother, being the sweet gentleman he is (or desensitized to my eccentricities…it’s tough to say) barely skipped a beat before trotting down the stairs. My dad didn’t ask why I had not come down and asked myself, just called out to the already departing girlguides that he needed an extra box of cookies for his daughter.
Once the girls were gone and the door was closed, I bounded down the stairs to claim my personal treasure. I briefly thanked my dad for being so generous and then scuttled back upstairs, with the entire box in hand.
As I sat down at my desk, I opened up the Girl Guide child-proof packaging, and began munching away as I stared out the window nostalgically as the girls moved door-to-door, hawking their delicious wares. Then I noticed one of the girls looking at me—with my hair flying every-which-way, and literally shoving cookies into my mouth. I tried to telepathically tell her that someday, through hard work and perseverance, she could someday have my empire of dirt. But I think I ended up giving her crazy eyes and just scaring her more.

Someday they will make a horror movie after me

I am in the midst of finals, and am seriously regretting this entire semester. I completely slacked off, and am now so far behind I’m struggling just pull off average grades. So basically the past week has involved me waking up, wandering downstairs for a breakfast of coffee, then trekking back up to my bedroom to sit at my desk and work until I get bored and decide to migrate back down to the kitchen for more food.

Today was one of my mega-workload days. I didn’t bother to change or shower, so my hair is in a frizzy bun and I am wearing grey sweatshirt that is 3 sizes to large. I did, however change out of the booty shorts I normally wear to bed (I would prefer to sleep naked, but have a weird fear of having to flee in the middle of the night, so booty shorts are a nice compromise), and instead put on my delightful pair of green paisly leggings (which both my parents have separately deemed to be “slightly creepy”).

Early this afternoon I was sitting at my desk, staring blankly at the same problem I had been looking at for over half-an-hour, when I heard people stomping along our front poarch. I looked out my window which faces out onto our front lawn, but could not see the deck because of the overhang. I was curious about what was going on, but not so curious as to move when the doorbell rang.

I heard my dad get the door, and I quickly pieced together that the people at the door weren’t just solicators—THEY WERE GIRL GUIDES. Usually we just buy two boxes of their delicious chocolate and vanilla sandwhich cookies, but I am in study mode at the moment and desperately wanted needed a third box, all to myself.

I jumped out of my seat and bee-lined it to the stairs. But then I remembered what I looked like. Imagine a modern-day Bertha Mason nearly leaping down the stairs, only to ask her father to indulge her every whim with another box of charity cookies. As soon as the girls handed over the goods, like a phantom of the opera, I would ascend back to my lair with my new secret stash. Our house would be infamous and never again would parents let their children even set foot on our lawn.

Just as I came to the realisation that I could not possibly go down stairs, my brother walked by. I grabbed him and asked: ”can you ask dad to buy another box, since I’m studying and all that?”

My brother, being the sweet gentleman he is (or desensitized to my eccentricities…it’s tough to say) barely skipped a beat before trotting down the stairs. My dad didn’t ask why I had not come down and asked myself, just called out to the already departing girlguides that he needed an extra box of cookies for his daughter.

Once the girls were gone and the door was closed, I bounded down the stairs to claim my personal treasure. I briefly thanked my dad for being so generous and then scuttled back upstairs, with the entire box in hand.

As I sat down at my desk, I opened up the Girl Guide child-proof packaging, and began munching away as I stared out the window nostalgically as the girls moved door-to-door, hawking their delicious wares. Then I noticed one of the girls looking at me—with my hair flying every-which-way, and literally shoving cookies into my mouth. I tried to telepathically tell her that someday, through hard work and perseverance, she could someday have my empire of dirt. But I think I ended up giving her crazy eyes and just scaring her more.

  1. flovercoroser reblogged this from ibowlwithbothhands
  2. g-nomey said: haha finals is not a good time to try inspiring the youth. girls at tutoring: “what’s the best thing to study at university?” me: “umm… do you really NEED to go to university? because, like, no option is the best option really…”
  3. ibowlwithbothhands posted this