must control fist of death...

The due date (Friday) for my biology grant proposal project thingy (of doom) fast approacheth. And the pressure increases. And my patience wears thin. And my urge to rain stabby death upon the masses of imbecilic assclowns who piss me off on a daily basis is steadily rising. And I swear to god, if I see one more Bush sticker on a vehicle, especially an SUV, I'm gonna flip my shit and inflict some serious damage. Side note: my sister has a GW sticker on her car at home. I will most definitely be taking a razor blade to that shit when I'm home for Thanksgiving. Or maybe I'll just cover it up with a Kerry sticker. Or a gay pride sticker. Or an "I heart terrorists" sticker.

So on top of academic stress, I've got the ever-present "real life" stress -- you know: family, friends, romance (or lack thereof), etc. etc. It's not that any of these situations have changed, per se, it's just that I've been dealing with them (juggling them precariously) for so long that I think I've reached my boiling point. My coping strategies have not been helped by the fact that I've been consuming inhuman amounts of caffeine in order to remain conscious throughout the day. The lack of sleep caught up with me this afternoon, when I took an accidental 3-hour nap... and had one of the weirdest fucking dreams EVER...

It involved shopping with my dad and my sister and some random girl and her lesbian girlfriend at a HUGE mall. And my sister was being bitchy, which caused my dad to COMPLETELY flip his shit... I mean totally freak out/go insane... he fucking SNAPPED. And so I followed him around the mall and tried to reason with him, and he kept trying to buy me stuff, but every time we got to the cash register, he'd get distracted and forget to pay. So I "escaped" to the bathroom to call my mom on my cell phone to get her to come and help me with my CRAZY father (oh, the irony!). But she didn't make it in time, and Dad and I were in the parking lot, and he kept trying to make me get in the car and leave with him, but I kept trying to stall him until Mom got there, so he finally got really angry and left me standing alone in the parking lot, but not before I ripped the door off of his SUV and threw it at the vehicle. Then I woke up because Louie was scratching my bedroom door.

I'm not even going to TRY to psychologically dissect this one. Suffice it to say that I really need to get more sleep.

So I just got back from a four-hour stint of researching/paper-writing at the library (a.k.a. The Pit of Despair... seriously, you can feel the stress eminating from people there. It's creepy.). I returned to an apartment that stank of cat shit (surprise, surprise), so I promptly scooped some poop, which, contrary to the theories of Pisser, did NOT lead to sex of any kind. And my kitchen is utterly foul and desperately needs to be cleaned. As does my bathroom, in which the mildew is starting to evolve into an intelligent life form (which, now that I think about it, may not be such a bad thing... if it gets smart enough, maybe it can write my paper for me!). So I'm drinking a beer, and then I'm going to bed, because I don't have the energy to deal with anything else right now.

So to sum up, I am stressed out and still kinda bumming about some things, but I am keenly aware of the fact that my life does not totally suck. I do, however, need to be cut some slack by some people whose patience with me seems to be waning. I'm trying; I really am. I'm just really fucking tired. But for the most part, my friends are fucking awesome. My Fucking Awesome Friend Shoutout of the Day goes to Beth, who gave me a cute, hilarious little "hang in there" card when I saw her between classes today. She totally made my day. Honorable mention goes to Pisser for emailing me the cartoon portrait I requested a few days ago. I'll be sure to post it sometime when I get the chance. Now I'm off to finish my beer and go to bed. Only two days and one heinous paper stand between me and the weekend!