BoredBoredBored.
Wednesday, April 27th, 2005Oh, it’s not that I have nothing to do. When that happens, you won’t find me bored. For the first few hours, anyways. No, I have things I could be doing. But I reallyreallyreally don’t want to. So I decided to entertain whoever is scanning this here blog.
So the creepy-dude scenario is rather “to-be-continued”. You see, I can’t be outright mean to him. And, sadly, that is not because I am not capable of being mean to him. It is because recently a family member of his died and I would feel like the biggest cretin in the world if I hurt him. Well, maybe not the BIGGEST cretin. But close. So I endure his comments. Now he is convinced that I can’t get over what he told me a week or two ago. At first he was like “I hope I didn’t really creep you out on Tuesday”. I was like “No, I wasn’t” (lie through the tightly gritted teeth). Then the next day (these comments just pop out randomly as we are in class, he just leans forward and drops the bomb. I swear, that kid…anyways, the next day he says “I don’t want anymore awkward silences between us.” “Um, huh?” “Don’t you remember? You like didn’t say anything to me yesterday.” That’s the point, genius!!! Let it go!! But I just tried to forget about it. If you will recall, we sit right across form each other. So my current sitting position at all times is with feet tucked tightly and safely out of range under my chair (gets a little painful some days, but it’s the price one pays to get rid of creepy guys) and my book in my lap. I was late for class because I went back to get my book because I didn’t want to share with him.
Oh my gosh, I’m changing my habits for him. That means I’m letting him control me. Oh geez. The dilemmas I find myself in. Well, I guess I could just sprawl as much as I want under that table. In fact, I could use him for a footrest. Then he couldn’t possibly accuse me of playing footsie with him. Or I could say whatever I want to him. I could shout insults across the table, actually. Good plan. OH, speaking of shouting insults, one of the excercises we had to do in class was make up clean insults in Spanish. We were placed into teams, and of course, I was with Creepy Guy. So the first thing he says is, “It’s going to be fun to make insults about you.” He’s acting like a deeply wounded ex. But he wasn’t even a current, or a pre, or even a thought!! So I just smiled. Hey, hit me again, that feels good. Ah, that hit the spot.
Ok, I’m off, physics lab soon. This weekend is gonna ROCK. Who cares that I will sleep about zero hours. Not necessary. I wanna hold my baby. Ok, peace out. Haha.