Despicable!!!

My Yahoo Messenger status message right now:
Sinusumpa ko na ang fil hanggang mag Second Coming

Translation:
I'm cursing Fil until the Second Coming

Today was the earliest exam time I had all week--> 7:30 am. I woke up early to brush up on some notes on fil which didn't really help. I got to school 10 minutes before the exam. I was happy. I rushed to K201 where they said the exam would take place. At the bottom of the stairway to K201, I met three of my blockmates. They were running; they looked harassed. I smiled and said hi. They asked me if I brought my fil book.

No, I didn't.

We need it.

Sh*t. C'mon let's go look for a photocopy machine.

Every photocopy station is still closed.

Lib.

Still closed. it opens at exactly 7:30.

We'll be late.

Better late than no copy of the story and flunk the test.

Ok, lib.

-run run run-

We met another two of our blockmates by the lib. They brought their books. Dang. The freakin' beadle (teacher assistant?) didn't tell all of us what were supposed to bring. My internet connection's broken down yesterday (that's why no new post!) so I didn't get to check my mail or see the Yahoo group. Lisa said there wasn't anything posted on the group. Dang. It's not our fault we didn't know we're supposed to bring the book. But as usual, this is college, everything is our fault now. If we get hit by a car because the driver is freakin' blind and drunk, it'll still be our fault.

So we waited right in front of the lib's doors, and barged right in when the guard flipped the sign from CLOSED to OPEN. We checked the ground floor. No one's at the photocopying center.

Upstairs!

Unluckily, I was wearing a pair of really loose pants. So I had to hold my pants up while running or it'll really fall off. So we got to the machine and had a million copies printed because a million of our blockmates didn't get the message that we're supposed to bring the freakin' book. That's not our fault. If it's only me, then, yeah, but there were a million of us so that meant that the friggin' beadle didn't do his job well.

Off we went to the exam building. It was a long run. I can't run fast. I can't run long distances. I tire easy. I mean, with the extra hundred pounds on me, how can I run as fast as the people with me who are half my weight? Nope, not my fault. This is because of the genes I inherited from my ancestors. Both my mom's and dad's families are well, big, so it's their fault.

With pants held high above my waist, I ran as fast as I could to the exam room.

So I got the exam booklet and the questionairre and the copy of the story. It was a dang long story. I spent an hour reading it. Wer've exhausted 15 minutes of the exam time with the photocopying, (not our fault we didn't know we're supposed to bring the book) so I had 45 minutes left to make an outline worth 20 pts and psychoanalyse the characters in the story and plan my essay carefully because neatness is worth 10 pts and of course, content worth 20 pts. A couple of paragraphs into the essay, the prof announces, "25 minutes left!"Just imagine how panicked I got. My outline still looked like sh*t, and my brain is so scattered I can't pull my thoughts together.

Time's up! Pass your papers.

I'm not done yet!

I'll just be upstairs. When your done, go up and give me your papers.

So again, with pants held high, we ran upstairs. I looked like a marathon runner on a relay race. I was running, clutching my pants, with my arm outstretched and calling after my prof.

This is the stupidest most despicable day in my whole life as a college student.

All because of fil.