Life is Annoying (Sometimes)

I'm running out of corny photos, so here's a kitten.

Y'know, at the beginning of today, I thought today was going to be alright. Just your average Thursday, going to school and coming home, feeling satisfied that your day turned out swell. For some reason, sometimes that doesn't happen. Sometimes fate likes to throw a curve-ball and screw up your perception of what the day is really going to go as. I'm going to go over today in what just rubbed me off the wrong way, starting with school.

School started off alright, having to over the Big Bang theory with a bunch of close minded Christians with religious debate, followed by a usual monotone composition class. Next came a slightly annoying Geography class, and then the "KIDS, WE'RE GOING TO LEARN WHAT A "PLOT" AND "SETTING" IS." Literature class, treating me as though I can't walk for shit. Then...

Math. Math so far this year is ridiculously easy, so this class I would have least expected to annoy the fuck out of me. But it did. I walk in the class, sat in my desk instinctively, pulling my books out... When I look up to see a friend with a chocolate bar. I say, "Hey! Can I have a quick piece, if you don't mind?" He nods. Now, note, he's only about halfway across the class room from me. He then tosses it to one guy--who is the class clown, yet idiotic dick--who then could've easily handed it to me. He instead tosses it to another student, who then tosses it to the guy to his left, hoping not to be a part of this antic. I wasn't really paying attention to this chaos though, since I was trying to pull my notebook. The kid to the "Just leave me alone."'s left then throws the chocolate piece towards my face, with a stupid, cheesy grin you'd imagine some troll on 4chan to have after successfully trolling. Only dumber.

This, only if he had down-syndrome.

I then reluctantly looked up in despair to see the piece of the chocolate bar on the floor, with me being the guy who doesn't believe in the "3 Second" rule. Not even Lucky Star could've convinced me to believe such a myth.



I was going to pass it off, but then--because these children don't have IQs above 30--start immaturely screeching and yelling, "AHHH, MAN, HOW DID YOU MISS THAT?! MAN, YOU SUCK!" This wasn't like one or two kids, this was the entire fucking class. I did my best to just brush it off, and tried to pick up the chocolate piece before the tubby to my left decided to pick it up and toss it at me fucking again. Seriously, this school needs better psychiatrists, because the ones they have now must be the cheapest they could possibly scavenge for these insane hoppips you call "students."

I then just picked it up and care freely tossed it onto the kid's desk. Of course, now the teacher in the classroom decides to bitch at me. After having it thrown it at me in the face twice, the teacher thought that wasn't a big deal. But tossing it in the air without even trying to hit someone? That's crossing the fucking line. She then admonishes me and says, "Pick that up and never do that again." Again, me being the pitiful rug I am, picked it up and tossed it in the trash can sheepishly, as the other students giggled at me as I could only raise my fist. The rest of the day went decently school-wise.

I then returned home, tired and yet in the mood to help things out a bit. My dad was the only one home, as my mom was out. So, I decided to help, by cleaning the dog's water out, taking out the trash earlier than usual and even mowed the lawn a slight bit more. With that in mind, you'd expect my mother to come home rather astonished.

THINK AGAIN

And keep in mind, by this point of the day, the whole chocolate bar incident was effaced from my memories of, "GOD FUCKING DAMN IT, I NEED TO PUNCH SOME SHIT." My mother then walks through the door, and the first thing she says--the first fucking thing she says--is this:

Mom: John Eagle... [puts bags down on kitchen floor] First off, you forgot a bag or two for the trash.

Me: Oh, well, sorry. I was-

Mom: Second, you can't just leave your trash down on the kitchen counter like this! Put it in the trash can!

Me: Well, I was busy trying to refill the dog's--

Mom: Here, take these to the trash out front already. [Hands bags]

Me: Nice to see you, too, mom.

I then did her garbage duty, only to walk into the house hearing her bitching and whining about the house:

Mom: You know why I'm in such an aggravated mood, John Eagle?
Me: No, why?

Mom: Because, every time I walk into this house, it looks like--sorry for the language--shit! It looks like a trailer park!

Mom. I love you. I really do. But you're bitching is not only getting me ready to smash the damned counter in half, you're being stubborn. This is a trailer park:

Our house looks similar to this:

You're bitching about the house having a few leaves and such on the floor, while some people dream of just having stable cardboard box to stay under for a night. Get over it. I'm tired of hearing you complain about the house looking messy. It's not like we're living on the damned streets, we live in a house that some could say looks like a mansion. What's worse: A Mansion that's got some various trash on the floor, or a cardboard box on the street? Or a small hut made of leaves and prickles? We're living in paradise compared to others. Quit your nagging and show some damned courtesy.

After that, I then crept up into my room and wrote this waste of text and time that could've been used for something much better.I'm not saying my problems in my life are the worst possible. Believe me. My problems are nuisances at the least. But even then, they're still problems. We all have them. I'm just letting out my inner nerd rage by writing. It's the only thing I can do to let it off without giving every kid in my classroom a bloody nose or punching my mom in the face out of complete spasmodic rage.

So, that does it for this. I need a drink.

Bleh, not that crap.

Much better.