School Dreams Can Stop Already

It’s getting old, and it’s reinforcing all of my shortcomings, guilt, and insecurities.  The past just doesn’t know how to stay in the past – and out of my subconscious.
And since I’m still waking up, I’m seeing things, and desperately need coffee.  The neighbor’s cat just looked like a small dog when he was in the middle of a stretch.  I really want to use a gif of Catdog, but it’s copyrighted, and there’s enough copyright shit on my blog.

Once again, most of my most whacked and vivid dreams happened after I went back to sleep this morning – after 7 a.m. – which I should probably stop doing soon, because for the past 2 months, I’ve been getting absolutely squat done with that routine.

I immediately went into a school scene, and I was studying for a math final.  This grade would determine whether or not I would graduate from college – much like my real math final did in my senior year of high school.

My professor was old, and set in her weird ways.  And of course I skipped half of the semester to screw off.  She never knew I wasn’t there anyways.  Or so I thought.  But she let me slide, and made up for it in the form of an evil final exam, which I showed up late for.  But only because one of my parents decided they didn’t want me driving to school because the roads were icy, and they hid my keys.

Thankfully the teacher let my tardiness go, and she let me into the testing room.  “Pick a test.  Everyone is waiting” she smiled at me.  Uh oh.  When I tried to find the easiest looking test packet, they were all blank!  Like, is this some sort of joke?  Nope.  Everyone else had blank packets, so I took one, and sat down.

“Begin” she said in a sing-song voice.  But I was still staring at the blank paper, while everyone else began to furiously scribble their work.  It was then that I realized that I had to turn over the packet, and turn the pages to find hidden post-it notes in between each of the pages.

Each post-it had a list of problems to choose from, but I didn’t realize this, and I thought the list was one big ass problem.  And then I started to slowly lose my mind because it took me the better part of 45 minutes (the test was only an hour and a half long!!!) to figure out how to plot 2 points.  Then I started to cry because everyone else was done with their exam, and I didn’t even finish the first damn problem.


But then the professor decided to have a little mercy, and told me there were multiple problems, and it was up to me to choose the easiest one.  Of course!!!

When I finally got the first page done, I ripped into the second page like it was going to be as easy as the first one.  NOPE!  It was a f*cking recipe, and the instructions said to calculate the answer.  OOH OOH!!!  I have a calculator!  All I have to do is type in the numbers from the recipe to find out what it is?????

I don’t know how my calculator came up with roast beef from a bunch of numbers, but apparently it was incorrect, and then I was crying again.  Then the professor felt bad, and she told me to come to her desk for some help.

“Ok, what do you get from mixing brown sugar, fennel, tea tree oil, absinthe, and fish eggs?”

“Uhhhhhhhhhhhh……..”  “Oh, come on.  You know this.  Albuuu…”  “THAT is not ALBUTEROL!!!  I KNOW what is in albuterol!!!  I just did a treatment before I got here.  DON’T TRY TO F*CK WITH ME!!!”  Then she raised her eyebrows over the fact that I was challenging her recipes, which was the entire goddamned TEST!!!  And by this point, steam was billowing from my ears and nostrils, and I desperately needed nutrition and alcohol.

“I’ll tell you what.  Finish this page, and come back tomorrow to finish the test.”  “BUT TOMORROW IS GRADUATION!!!”  “Not for you it isn’t.  You need to pass my test, dear”.

F I N E ! ! !

And because I was starving, I snatched my scrap paper, and went into the next room – my parents’ kitchen.  It figured that the testing room was their living room.  And it figures that my mom was sitting at the kitchen table, writing recipes.  SERIOUSLY?!?!  SHE was writing the tests for the professor, and my answers were on the top of the microwave!!!!!!  But of course I wasn’t allowed to touch them.

As I was getting something to eat, my mother sat at the table, shaking her head and clicking her tongue at me.  But I got revenge.  I left the refrigerator and freezer doors open so that everything would spoil, and all of her recipes would fail.

I had had quite enough.  So I grabbed my pb&j sandwich, and went to my cousin’s party, which was at my grandparents’ old house, for some strange reason.  But the outside patio looked like his place, and that was fine, because that’s where his tiki bar and secret stash were.  And because I was so stressed out at this point, I was on a mission to make a giant margarita, and find a pack of cigarettes, because it has been 13 years since I’ve smoked, and goddamn I just need a smoke once in awhile.

But then there were no clean margarita glasses, or ice.  So I had to go into my grandparents’ freezer, and use the nasty Niagara Falls water ice cubes, and a glass that didn’t really work for margaritas.  But I didn’t care.  I was desperate, and I proceeded to search for a mixer and tequila.

The only tequila left was a $500 bottle from Mexico.  But I didn’t care if my cousin was going to kick my ass.  I wanted my damn margarita!!!

Of course the blender didn’t work, because the power went out.  So I had to go upstairs to find out why.  And in my grandparents’ room was an exorcism!

I purposely left that small.

But then they needed my help, and because I was so scared, I just sat and said a few prayers.  Apparently the demon seemed to calm down because the power came back on, and then I hightailed it out, back into the kitchen because now I REALLY needed that margarita.  STAT!

Thank goodness I found some used ice from someone else’s drink.  I didn’t care.  I was about to serve myself the largest drink in human history to forget that there was a demon upstairs.

And thank God for that drink, because now I knew all the answers to my test!!!  So I rushed back to the testing room and finished in 10 minutes, which the professor wasn’t too happy about, because she was hell bent on failing me.






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