The Glass is Half Full

So I was at school, being all chirpy, because hey, I wasn't at home. I casually update my maths teacher on every single complaint I've had since the holiday started (minus the profanities), lest he misses hearing my rants while we were on break. Then he does that responsible adult teacher advice thing, where he's like "look at things from your parents' perspectives, they have high expectations of you" etc. etc. Of course I nod respectfully whilst thinking "NO."

I'm currently too stubbornly angry at everyone and everything to heed sensible advice. My cold just gets worse and worse. I spend more time coughing than I do breathing. Fuck the world.

There's a chemistry class which I don't really want to go to, because all we're doing is titrating substances, then for one of my maths I'm just like nrrrrghn despite having the best teacher in the world, simply because we're studying matrices and I'm all like "matrices is for faggots". Not that I'd never make that complaint to my ever-passionate and enthusiastic maths teacher, because I don't want to die. 

But matrices is actually so shit. 

I must have droned on some more about life in general, because when my teacher had to go he left me a couple of words. "the glass isn't half empty, it's half full!" It's a common saying, to cheer up the miserable pessimistic sod. I wave goodbye, grateful that he's trying to correct my skewed world views, except in my mind I'm thinking "either way, I still only have half. And even if it's half full--- it's half full of shit."

Despite that, my mood has improved dramatically since school started. All the work I have is kinda blergh. I'm completely clueless at times, but it's actually...okay. Everything is actually okay. 

Yeah, the glass is half full. Even if it's half full of shit, like I say, maybe I should appreciate the fact that I can still fill in the other half with something not-so-shit.

Alternatively, find a new glass.