novembersmith: (Default)
There aren't even any words for how bad I am about to destroy my own life through sheer, stupid incompetence.

Exams tomorrow. Covering the entirety of paleoanthropology, primate functional morphology, behavioral ecology, taphonomy, evolutionary theory, and reproductive life history.

*sobs quietly in corner and makes another pot of coffee*

INTERNET IF EVER YOU WERE TO INITIATE A ZOMBIE INVASION, NOW WOULD BE THE TIME.

A FREAK TORNADO WOULD ALSO BE NICE. OR AN EARTHQUAKE. OR A TARDIS.


ETA: If I have been ignoring any of your guys, I am seriously sorry-- I promise I'll catch up on things this weekend. Ish. Sometime. IF I'M NOT DEAD.
novembersmith: (Default)
So I have massive end-of-my-life exams this week. How does my brain deal with this?

Apparently by concocting the worst nightmare of not only my life, but any other. Behold:

So I go into my qualifying exams and they tell me I'll be interpreting the life history of the spider-mouse based on observing them in tanks at different age intervals. They show me into the room, give me a clipboard, some goggles, lock the door behind me. I approach the first tank, and inside is a clutch of eggs, glistening a bit in the terrarium, and I think--wait, mice don't lay eggs. I've been had! And then the eggs hatch and they're slimy and strange and I don't look too close because I'm started to get weirded out, so I turn to the next tank and FUCKING SHIT.

I don't even know what is wrong with my fucking brain. A spider-mouse doesn't sound that scary, does it? Oh, but just think on it a little further. It's got the head of a mouse, wide bulging black eyes, and bitey square little teeth chomping at the air, and from the neck down, the bristly translucent brown legs of a fucking death spider. Tarantula-sized. Pawing at the glass of the terrarium and snapping its teeth and there's like twelve of them, swarming around each other. In the next terrarium they're even bigger. And then a terrarium tips over and they're everywhere and they're CLIMBING UP MY LEGS, and I'm screaming, "JUST FAIL ME, I DON'T CARE, JUST FAIL ME AND THEN SHOOT ME IN THE HEAD OH GOD."

Subconscious, you are On Notice.
novembersmith: (Default)
You know that nightmare you have where at the end of the semester you realize you've been signed up for this class the whole time, only you didn't know, so you didn't go to any of the classes, takes any of the tests, or write any of the papers? And then during finals you find out and you're FUCKING SCREWED?

Yeah. That's my life right now.

At least it's not finals, though, right? Hah. I want to die. What happened was, I signed up to audit a course in Icthyology, because I already had a full complement of courses (our school recommends you only take 4 courses a semester, and you have to get permission to take 5). Plus, because I have a seminar on Mondays, I always miss one of the three weekly classes, so I thought it'd be best to audit it. I was really careful about making sure I signed up as an AUDIT, and not a GRADUATE course, and yet, somefuckinghow, that is what happened. Even though I checked it a billion times, got my advisor to sign off on it, got my professor to sign off on it, and RE-CHECKED at midterms. Now when I went and checked the page early last week, I found out somewhere along the line I either went crazy, or the computers did. Some one is crazy. I mean, I'm definitely crazy NOW, in that I want to die. Holy shit, guys. MY WORST NIGHTMARE, COME TRUE.

It's not enough that I have ten thousand other things to do. They're saying that I can't drop the course now, and I. I don't even know what to do. I'm going to meet with the dean in a few minutes. Wish me luck, guys. Please. I really need it. I'm almost in tears and I can't stop shaking and I feel like my chest is going to collapse.

In other news, OMG [livejournal.com profile] softlyforgotten and [livejournal.com profile] zarah5 have written the BEST FIC EVER. Here. In the event that I am forced to make up ALL THE WORK FROM THIS CLASS AND PROBABLY FAIL IT ANYWAY, I am going to just hide in my apartment for the rest of my life and re-read this for all eternity.

Also also, PWENTZ WHAT UP WHERE YOUR BABY AT. UGH.

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novembersmith

May 2010

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