Lelelelelele

I scored an 8 for Dutch History! Yaaaaaay~! *Runs around flailing arms* That is, if I hand in my portfolio this week. Portfolios! BAH! And now I'm sitting here waiting until I have my meeting with the dean, which is in 25 minutes. And suddenly I find myself being very 'melig', which is a bit sad because I'm here in the Media Centre on my own. Well, not really on my own but on my own as in there is nobody here I know. Or maybe I do know but... Oh well!

I had my dorko moment this morning quite early already. Actually it started yesterday evening. Today's exam/convo was at 11:30 so I typed that in on the public traffic site. Or did I...? Because suddenly I found myself at the train station at a quarter to eleven and I suddenly wondered since when it took the train half an hour to get to Zwolle. I TOOK. A TRAIN. TOO. GODDAMN LATE! Well not a real biggie because I just joined in on another group but I -did- miss the conversation with the teacher about the exam. Which was mainly because they had gone ahead of me and went into another classroom so I couldn't find them -_- Thanks very much for waiting. Oh well, in the end there was nothing I could have changed anyway. Teacher's will is law, remember that kids. And I guess that no matter what that teacher had said I would have just blushes and nodded in agreement. DAMMIT! It's not fair to disarm with looks.

So, I'm eating Samson&Gert cookies in a university's Media Centre... And of course I suddenly find myself having an immense BURST of novel-writing-inspiration and I have nothing to write it down ooooon!

Next month I'm going to start going to the gym. Yeah. The Gym, with capitals. It's the liar of my arch enemies. Skinny Barbie dolls will be observing me as I hobble along on the treadmill and hometrainers. But fuck, it's for a good cause. I'm sick of having to drag my weight around with me, or not being able to wear whatever the feck I want. SOON, WORLD, SOON! YOU SHALL OBEY MY BEAUTY AND ALL SHALL FAAALLLL MUWHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH*cough*

The guy next to me thinks he can type faster than I can. We haven't officially started a contest but I can see him sneakily glancing at my keyboard all the time, as if he's wondering whether I'm actually really writing something. Or perhaps he's wondering whether I'm human or not, because I'm so awesome. AWESOME. You know why? Because I scored an 8 for Dutch history, bitches!

And now I want to go home. Huwaaaaaa.