Yesterday, for whatever reason, my patience ran out. This is highly unusual. I wouldn't say that I am normally an extremely patient person, in fact, what by most is perceived as patience on the outside is really a lack of genuine interest in disguise. But yesterday there was no disguise. No, I can't help you study for this exam. Not because I can't but because I have no interest. So what if I can bullshit my way through it, alas you cannot. Then, at aquasize, the old women and young women milled like cattle in the road aimlessly with no where to go and all the time to do so. There were no lanes in pool, only one giant corral of bitter ladies knocking heads. Not to mention that every time I go to the pool, one of my first ever profs at the Uni attempts conversation with me while she is noticeably naked and I am noticeably uncomfortable. Everywhere I looked, incompetence was leaving it's wake.
Am I worried about this slip up of impatience? No. Not at all. The only thing remotely worrisome is that my disguise of disinterest may be blown. Oh well, so what if it is. This was one of those days where in my dream, I'm Paul and Ringo isn't walking out of the recording session, I'm kicking him out. I'm telling him to "shut the fuck up" and then I take my seat at the drum kit and tear it up on Back in the USSR, without that moldy fucking pimp. And my version, is way way sweeter.
So, no thanks, I'm already full up on incompetence for today.
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