First Day of the Last Day of School Ever

I realized that when I woke up today, that this is the first day of the last day of school, which is a mildly horrifying thought. Well, nearly as horrifying as taco bell being closed last night. (They wont let drunk people walk through the drive through) I found it fitting that I started the day off with a hangover because it demonstrated I am fulfilling my goal to leave no stone unturned quite nicely. Waking up on my own couch while my two friends were sleeping in my bed was perfectly normal. Despite the fact that I had plenty of things I should have been doing, I elected to stay on the couch munching on a delicious snack of chips and salsa until my two thirty class. Class did not last very long, all we did was talk about ourselves and our feelings. I am pretty sure my teacher was stoned. She has admitted it before, and it would really not surprise me given the philosophical nature of our syllabus discussion.

I went to the bookstore to buy my books, which is now the Torero Store, and it sucks. I paid 15 dollars for a stupid file folder that will probably break in two weeks and like a gagillion dollars on a bunch of paper back books that probably only have 10 pages actually assigned ever. When I went to collect these books, the computer system had said that I ordered four of each book.  Why would anyone want four? I don't really even want one. Soooooooooooo that was slight awkward an inconvenient. I really didn't want to be charged $3000 dollars for books. For some reason I doubt it was an accident-there would be plenty of people that wouldn't notice, and the mission of USD is not to uphold Catholic values, but to rip people off. They don't even run the stupid fountains all the time, and they only recently instituted free re-fills at La Paloma. Nope. Not an accident.

The only major snafu in my day was when I rear ended an Ethiopian cab driver and the dude was a total drama queen/diva about it. Two moronic idiots darted off the median into the road and while he avoided hitting them, I was not so lucky to avoid hitting his yellow submarine. The guy literally sat in his car and blocked traffic for like ten hours and I don't understand why he felt the need to remain in the middle of the road. Finally, he agreed to move over so the line of 50 cars behind us could pass. As I wrote down my information, he proceeded to look at me oddly, stomp his foot, and blow cigarette smoke in my face. Okay-seriously. I get it. You are super irked, but seriously your cab is ugly and smells like vomit anyway. The guy made out like a bandit-he'll probably pimp out his cab.

Perfectly unmemorable, yet memorable day