*I sprayed my book, stuck the pretty picture it, it stuck to my fingers, stuck to the counter, stuck to everything but the book cover. I felt something on my foot and I look down and one of those flying cockroaches in on my foot! I scream and begin hopping around doing the indian rain dance or the fertility dance, not sure which, and I realized the cockroach is flapping it's wings but it's glued to my foot.
Me: hop scream hop
Roach: flap flap flap*...
and on an upcoming math test:
Haaaate. If I drop bus. math I can't graduate next spring, if I fail I can't graduate next spring. I need to really sit down at the table, with Jim, and force this into my brain like some parasitic alien egg that will burst forth fully grown during my test tomorrow.