Mind’s Eye View

It’s way past 3 A.M. and I have just gotten home from, well, doing a little reading for tomorow’s exams. O.k., nothing new there.  But what’s new is that I came home to a house… (I had a little trouble making this statement come out really good.)  Ok… here goes an attempt: Unlike on other 3 A.M.’s, I came home to an empty house. (Maybe I should try harder?)

Anyway, the deal is I’m home alone. Now, isn’t that just great?!

I actually revel at the thought of being home alone and the many potentials the situation holds.  We all may have some cool ideas on what to do when we’re home alone:  host a house party with pals, turn up the radio volume to max, run a movie marathon, bring a date home (ha!), or just make a huge mess, et cetera, et cetera.  Fun is the idea.

These things played round my mind as I drove in at the garage, a dark, empty house in sight. But as I was gathering my things scattered in the back seat, among them two 300-page law books, half-a-ream of photostatic copies of cases, interspersed with two boxes of cigarettes and some coke, I was convinced that the former two were just a product of some hallucinogenic compound I may have inadvertently taken because some desperate, neurotic and underpaid scientist-cum-food attendant mixed it in with my Iced Kafe Mocha to find out it’s friggin effects on mega-stressed out law students.  I mean, what do you know, the world is full of morons!

Then OUCH! I may have slipped through a warp zone and found myself back to the grim reality of a hurting left foot.  One of the books just fell, hitting me on my left lower limb.

OH NO!!!!! Why is life so sh*tty!  My turkey-jerky-dry brain sent signals to my triple-decker eyebags making them tremble at the thought that it was not possible to bring a date home! (Errr… or maybe host a house party? Run a movie marathon?  Anyway, the idea is:  SH*T!)

Why is it that when an opportune time comes, the opportunity you have always associated with that opportune time is missing… inaccessible… unobtainable… gone… pfft!

Talk about bad timing! Talk about frustration!  It’s times like this you need a "juicy!"  If only a "juicy" could lend me some much-needed freedom, I’d buy a truckload!

*Sigh!* If not for Dad, I would not have gone into this cesspool masquerading as a school of law! Call me grumpy, grouchy or a spitter of plain gobbledygook, i’m really sick of this…. this…. AAAAAAAARRRGHH!!!

Amen.  Pardon my whining.  Now I remember, Dad called me this afternoon reminding me… demanding… to prepare for tomorrow’s test.  Oh man, I REALLY NEED A JUICY!!!!!!