Monday, April 2, 2012

My Type of Fantasy Baseball and 32 Days to Go.

Holy hell.  Monday morning hit me like a freight train.  A freight train full of anxiety, excitement, fear, and just downright stuff to do.  I'm walking across that stage in T-minus 32 days and this month to come has more packed into it than socks stuffed into boxers in a firefighter calendar.  This week is full of schoolwork, topped off with Easter weekend.  Although I'll probably be going home for at least a couple of days, but I doubt I'll have time to slow down while I'm there.  The following week is crammed full of final projects and getting ready for finals, followed by the most rage-filled weekend of my life: senior festivities.  Did I mention I'm in charge of planning one of those events?  Thank God I've already written by sendoff speech and made my slide show.  Oh, sorority girls, we sure know how to jazz up even the most depressing of moments. 

My coffee is now cold, I have a headache from stressing, and I have to read about possibly the worst topic you can give a republican girl... Marxism.  Gross.  Excuse me while I go vomit all over the bull-crap starting on page 127.  At least it's not about fascism.  I'm still not buying all this "it's great in theory" nonsense, Karl.  If good ole Mr. Marx were alive today, he would probably be posting his Manifesto on his Tumblr through his iPhone app like every other damn hippie in America. 

And I'm having a bad hair day, which sucks because I'm supposed to have a date night with my boyfriend tonight and I'm going to look like I crawled out of a cave.  Whatevs.  I will applaud his selflessness in skipping the final March Madness games to take me to dinner.  His bracket apparently has a 99.3% chance of winning... whatever that means.  Real-life sports elude me, does anyone really expect me to grasp the concepts behind all these fantasy sports?  Ridiculous.  Also, I posted on Twitter this weekend, but seriously, what are guys thinking when they ditch their girlfriends for sports?  Who's going to make their sandwich for halftime?  Exactly... hope you starve, rude boys.  Seriously though, just kidding.  I'm not one of those psychotic girlfriends who doesn't understand that sports are, like, really important.  I actually enjoy going to sporting events.  What I don't enjoy is devoting 24 hours 7 days a week to something that has no relevancy to my real life.  Cough, cough, fantasy baseball.  Baseball sucks in the real world.  Unless the fantasy version has a halftime show where the players do a strip tease in just those sexy pants, and they're pitching balls soaked in gasoline and lit on fire, I can't imagine how that could be even mildly entertaining. 

Anyways, I guess I should get going on this "literature" about socialism.  Bleh, even typing it makes me cringe.  Let me know how your Monday is starting off!


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