I have the sleeping schedule of an infant, the patience of a toddler, the acne of a teenager, the wrists of a retired interpreter, and the memory of an Alzheimer's patient. I called my chiropractor and apparently they don't do attitude adjustments. So, I have no choice but to self-medicate with high doses of caffeine, lots of bed rest, and plenty of mindless activities like Facebook and flossing my teeth.
Yesterday, I came home from school at 1:00. (Please note: I did not attend my 1:10-2:30 class.) My eyelids couldn't stay open, so I did what anyone suffering from senioritis would do: I took a nap.
At 5:30 I rolled myself out of bed and decided to go to Barnes and Noble. Now, I go to the cafe and notice a girl sitting at one of the tables and I instantly do not like her. Why? Because she's sitting next to the only outlet in the darn place with both a phone and a laptop plugged in. How inconsiderate! With only about 45 minutes left on the laptop battery, I took a seat a few tables down and tried to make the most of my battery's life.
Soon, the unlikable girl two tables down was joined by two more twerps and they were having a study session. Topic: Statistics. UGH. I was ready to pull my thinning hair out, but decided I would do the rational thing and stare at them as though they were aliens. I could not help it. Staring might be a side-effect of senioritis. In fact, I'm pretty sure it is. That might be a senioritis stage 2 or 3 symptom. When drooling occurs, you've graduated into stage 4.
Someone needs to make a brochure about senioritis. I guess I will since I don't have much else going on.
Anyway. . .
The point I was trying to make about my trip to Barnes and Noble was simply this: Senioritis decreases tolerance of all things. . . except alcohol. Or, so I hear.