If I had just not taken that evil history class, the one I hated, the one I did not need to take, my GPA this semester would have been a 4.0. Since I took the stupid class, didn't drop it, got a D in the fucking class (ugh), my GPA for the semester is a 3.0, making my total GPA unpleasant. Fury. I don't know how I got an A in my Psychology and English classes considering that I didn't really do all that well in either of them. Perhaps my teachers fudged some things. Perhaps they realized my genius and figured my brilliance deserved an A even if my effort didn't. I don't know, but I'm glad at least that those two are As and looking beautiful on my report card. Along with that stupid D. And a W. The W is OK though. I have to figure out what I'm doing next semester. And do my FAFSA! shit. and yeah. I should look into application deadlines. My grades aren't as bad as I thought they'd be this semester. Perhaps I can transfer after all.
Operation birthday present(s) is kind of finished. I have a teensy concern though. I'm hoping it's not a problem. Perhaps I'll call and check. I'm also hoping he can be on time. It's a timed thing. Can't be late. I'm driving, and I haven't got a good grasp on precisely where I'm going, so it's best to have squidge room, particularly since I tend to get very confused on highways. It's this decreased cognitive functioning.
I hear my father arriving home. I am going to bombard him. HOT WATER.
