So I was all set to come home tonight and rant about the bitch-face who teaches one of my classes. Then the dad comes to pick me up. Now, I've had a stressful few days. I had mondo trouble with the stoopid project for my historical sociology class (actually, not a stoopid assignment. I just couldn't get ahold of the right people, and ended up having to improvise. I don't improvise well.), had another eight-page paper due on Saturday, had a Forrest down from Duluth on Friday (fun stress, but still stress), and through it all my power adapter for the iBook decided to well and truly crap out on me.

So today I got up at four after staying up until midnight. I finished the damn paper, went to historical; finished the assignment for stoopid class, went to stoopid class (did all of this in 45 minutes); got annoyed in stoopid class, so decided that I was going to go to tap to work it out. Now, at no time today did I intend to go to all of my classes. I've felt ready to drop all day. Yet, I ended the day with tap, in a very crab-ass mood.

Then my dad showed up.

We were supposed to go out to the Apple store to see a guy about a cord, but dad had dog in the car, and she doesn't do the "alone in the car" thing so well. I asked if he remembered that we had to go, thinking this was going to be yet another irritation. He gets in the car, pulls out a bag, and hands me a new cord for the iBook. That's right. My father -- MY father -- figured I'd be at least as tired as he was, so he went out and picked it up before he came to get me.

And then.

He told me it was gratuit for helping him learn how to use his computer.

Yeah, can't really bitch too much about stoopid class. Maybe tomorrow I'll transcribe the handwritten rant I wrote to get me through. For right now, I'm a happy camper.

Good night!