Honestly. How fookin' STUPID can I fookin' get?!?

I'm raging inside right now.  Absolutely fuming.  I smiled complacently through lunch with the grandparents, grandaunts, and other random women.  In truth, I was bored out of my mind.  Their tendency to force-feed anyone 20 years their younger got to be quite annoying today, given that I wasn't hungry much.  The sleep deprivation, along with the utter disgust at my own idiocy, made me lose any and all remnants of my so-called appetite.  I was too bleh to want to eat.

Have any of you ever watched Six Feet Under on HBO?  The daughter, Claire, tends to have these moments of zoning out into oblivion.  As she enters into a seemingly different dimension, her thoughts and imaginings are portrayed on-screen.  Almost as suddenly as they'd appeared, the scenes end and abruptly revert back to reality.  I won't describe which scenes come to mind.  You'd have to watch the show.  I had one of these moments during the insanely boring dim sum fest today.  As I sat there and stared aimlessly towards the other end of the restaurant, I suddenly saw myself abruptly pushing my seat back, standing up, and screaming at the top of my lungs.  Maybe it had to do with that one line of lyrics from Liam's song.  Anyway, so here I was, standing in the middle of Bamboo de Chine Restaurant, screaming like a stark-raving lunatic.  I was venting the frustrations of my past night.  "Guess who wrote a fookin' final today?!  Guess WHO didn't find out about this final until 7.5 hours prior to it, at around fookin' 2:00 a.m.?!?!!  Guess who for some damn reason was under the impression all along that the final was to be on Friday the 30th?!  Guess who is flipping out now, and will be flipping out if she discovers that she failed the course because of that cursed final exam?!"  At this point in time, the entire restaurant full of people were staring at me blankly.  You could hear the distinct *clink* as a chopstick dropped from one's grip in the distance.  The shattering of a teacup in the kitchen pierced the silence.  And, just as abruptly as this reverie had begun, I was catapulted back into reality as one of those aunt-like women refilled my teacup.  I should submit that to HBO.  I'd be the theme at the beginning of that episode; the one whose story is retold prior to their death.  Meh.

So I'm writing this post in desperate plea that someone please make this day bearable for me.  I have a truly difficult task that awaits me tonight, and I honestly wonder if it's at all possible that my day could go more wrong.  Either way, I hope and pray for the best.  Wish me luck, 'cuz I certainly won't be doing that for myself.  I don't believe in luck anymore.  I've given up on it.  It doesn't exist in my world.