We Shall Underwhelm

The crush of classwork is sort of over. At least finals no longer loom overhead. I bombed the final, of course. First time in forever that's happened. Apparently my poor brain was overwhelmed into incoherence by a mixture of somnophobic pharmaceuticals that ought not to be mixed. I'll have to avoid that in the future.

Really, it's some sort of freak miracle that I didn't die in a pileup on the turnpike on the way to my exams. It's even more of a freak miracle that I didn't die hours later on the way back when the turnpike was jammed with a honking swarm of metal and plastic.

If I were an actuary selling myself life insurance, I would include a clause about not paying a dime if I fall asleep doing fifty in a Corolla. Because, really, I've had more honest brushes with death due to the combination of cars and sleep deprivation than due to anything else. It's stupid and ridiculous and irresponsible and all sorts of idiocy and also self-inflicted which is the alienating bow on top. (cue a high bell ringing clear and long) Ding! Emo done, go to sleep.