My Poor Shark

I don't think it's quite fair to take out my stress on Vincent, but being the wonderfully soft and fluffy shark he is, he makes a perfect replacement for a stress ball. No matter how much I abuse it, it doesn't break or lose its shape.

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So I was revising for chemistry (as you do before a chemistry exam), and then my roommate asks for the nth time to borrow my chemistry notes. NO, YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM, BECAUSE I'M FUCKING REVISING AND I FUCKING NEED MY CHEMISTRY NOTES. AAAARGH. See he asks to borrow my notes quite often, and it never warrants that much rage, except I've had a lousy morning putting up with his friend, and revision itself does not put me into a good mood. It's quite distressing when the content you're only supposed to be "revising" is learnt for the first time. I wonder whether I'll be able to finish my chemistry in one night. Then there's maths. Oh maths. What the fuck am I going to do.

Then Dad was being a twerp, as usual. At dinner he kept on telling me to eat more, and then I told him that no, I didn't want to eat more, because I was full. He shot me a disapproving look, and went on about how I should revise, and asked me what I was studying in chemistry, Way to go Dad, asking me what I'm doing in chem, as my end-of-term tests are approaching. I don't think I replied properly... how does one say "salt hydrolysis" in Chinese, anyway? I barely understood what it meant in English.

Then as I was leaving the dinner table, Dad said, "I think you're getting fatter. All this eating and sitting around is no good for you. You haven't left the house once today."

...I strangled my shark when I got back to my room. The emotion I felt inside me cannot be described with words.

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And I still haven't finished my chemistry revision. This is a baaaad weekend.

How I feel about this world^