I need about 500 more words, need to run off to the library to find a printer, run back across campus to hand in my essay, then back again to get to the bus stop in time to take the last bus. I'm starving, haven't eaten anything at all today, and won't for another two hours likely enough.
But that's all fluff and feathers and sparkly little rainbows of goodness (and my fault, really) in comparison.
As I'm walking away from class, some bastard decides to just up and HIT ME IN THE FACE. Yeah. FACE.
...Okay, so really it was the side of my face and I don't think it's bruised 'cause it wasn't last I looked in the mirror, but still. WTF? I actually think he mistook me for someone else. I think that would make the most sense as I have this tendency to try and NOT piss people off and he also kept calling me 'Teresa'. And I'm not a Teresa.
Still. That's besides the point. Fucker HIT ME. I don't forgive that easy. I kicked him into the creek.
...Which sounds a lot more kickass than what actually happened. I hit him. And that didn't do much good so I kicked him. He tripped, fell down the steep thing dirt thing (...coherency wut?) mostly of his own accord. But fuck it was satisfying 'cause he crashlanded in water and dirt and cold and wet and TAKE THAT BITCH.
...Then I turned and ran for dear life cursing my heels in the process.
And now I'm going to have to go back out there. Fuck if this doesn't make me hate night time. Teach me for not-knowing more people around campus/carrying my freaking phone. >.