This Yogurt Tastes Like Poop

Yet I'm still eating it.  The mean thing is that is looks like whipped cream with strawberries, but it tastes like poop.

POOP.

I stupidly picked up the last carton at the store last night thinking, "It's not vanilla, but I'm sure it will taste just fine."  WRONG.  Now I must suffer through every single bitter bite until the carton is gone.  Or...here kitty kitty...

Just kidding, I only let my cat eat bugs and rocks.

This is really how you're starting a back to school post?  Yes, yes I am.  You know, I don't think talking about yogurt (yoghurt?) is the best way to welcome the new school year (it's definitely yogurt, spell check is getting angry at me.).  Shutup and go eat my poop yogurt me.

I guess I'm back in the Ceeds (I'm going to make it happen people) now and the school year has begun.  Joyous occasion?  Eh...let's start with new occasion, I can work with that.

I'm back of course after a 3 week trip to Salty Lake where I actually took the cat with me.  I made the mistake of letting him out of his cat carrier on the way there.  He immediately commandeered the car, held a gun to my head and told me I must go 60 to 80 mph or the car would explode along with a bus of school children. Did I mention I was driving with Keanu Reeves as well?  Let's just say I didn't make the same mistake on the way back to Cedar.

I guess I really could be talking about how excited I am to be back in school or how this is such an opportunity or I really need to burn the evidence in the backyard...YEAH, all that stuff, but I'm not.  I'm tired and it is day three.  THREE.  Uno, dos, THREE. Why can't my life be like a movie and college goes by in 90 minutes? I WANT TO BE REESE WITHERSPOON AND BE A SASSY LAWYER.  Wait, I'd rather be anyone in Good Will Hunting.  A Beautiful Mind?  So I guess now I'm going to wake up and realize I haven't actually been going to school for 3 years but have been sitting in my basement chewing on cardboard.

Is that a better alternative?  I'll let you decide.

All right, cardboard: check.  Cat joke: check.  Dated movie references: check.  Poopy yogurt: check.

Do I even have to talk about classes?  Fine: class class, paper paper, read read read, walking everywhere.  I think that did it justice.

I guess this is how school is going to start.  Can I use YOLO ironically or is that against some kind of rule I don't know about.  Whatever, the rules?  I break them.

YOLO FOREVER

Screaming At Rice

We often reach those breaking points after enduring periods of temporary insanity.  The past week has been one of those such cases.

With two (large) tests in one week and one coming up tomorrow (yes, tomorrow, as in less than 8 hours away...Eight. Hours. Away.) my body starts to rebel against any current stress.

Oh, you have a chapter to read?  Hey, let's make your face break out.  That way, you can't go hang out with anyone, or shouldn't.

You want to relax by going to the gym?  Hold on, I'm gonna make you sick while you're there (I can't believe you went there anyway, Rudolph)

You have no time for meals!  Frosting for lunch, pop-tarts for dinner, and...McDonald's, you need McDonald's right now.  It's 2:30am?  Even better.

Forget sleeping, sleeping is for the living.  You've crossed into a new realm sir.

Honestly, I'm a little fed up with it.  Thankfully my face decided to calm down after I took my final for one class two days ago but I don't think the sleep will come until the one tomorrow is over.

So in the meantime, I stay up to ungodly hours eating the equivalent of obesity on a plate while being in a state of undress.

I decided momentarily to try and eat real food for the first time in 40 hours and cook.

I reach for the rice, my grip falters, and like an utterly dramatic movie it falls in slow motion to the floor with a crash.  Rice, rice everywhere.  Flying through the air like some tragic accident, there's even screaming.

From me.  I'M YELLING AT THE RICE.  I've come to that aforementioned breaking point and my mind is bouncing around and getting lost in cracks like the rice on the floor.

"AH, WHY RICE!?  WHY?!" the words flying from my mouth.

I stare at the pieces on the floor, grudgingly find the broom, and begin to pick my thoughts off the floor.  Each sweep and some of these distractions make their way into the garbage.

I'm distracted, even the universe is trying to thwart me.