Third day of study for large ecology test. Read through the rest of the articles, including an astonishingly riveting piece about bison grazing and how they maintain grass diversity. Oh the wild life I lead.

Besides reading through all the lecture notes once I have the labs to look through still. I'd prefer to roll up into a ball and hit myself with one of the plastic litre bottle I have lying around...which seem to have proliferated, last I checked, to the ungodly number of 20, including many 20 ounce offspring bottles. Ah the boggish allure of the bachelor's life do I adMIRE.

After all this is more studying for the chem test I have wednesday. I did the homework for friday so I'm caught up on doing the stuff. Hopefully two days'll be enough. What after that...well there's the Graduate Review Examination that I should have been studying for an hour or two a night all this time...then there's research...then there's trying to get professor's to write recommendations for jobs...then finals.

Suicide really is the cheshire cat of life. Transparent and invisible, it comes back smiling and winking at you like some elusive trick (kindof like my last five ex's). But being the severely disturbed obsessively controlling success-bound Puritanical wonderwall that I am, my sense of pride and commitment simply wouldn't allow it.

I have too much cool stuff.

See, that's why so many poor middle aged white men snuff the celestial cooter: they forget how much cool stuff they have. I'm not talking about sports cars or Harvey the wonder cock with SensoRidge technology, either. Family, friends, money, chachkis, toys, these all fall under "cool stuff." There's that whole social group bond connection dying is bad thing, but I save ethics and morality for the coffee shop and when I have the luxury of being able to give a rat's ass.

Plus I want to live just to test out exactly how fucking ludicrous this "school/college was so easy compared to now" attitude is among adults. People color the past in roses or opaque gauze. This keeps us sane and not bitter. I do not argue against this. What I do argue against are people who tell me this is supposed to be easy or that these are my "golden years." I can only take that verbal enema in jest for so long. You see, as a selfish bastard I can somewhat appreciate what parents, like Colleen, and people who have regular jobs go through. I have had a full-time, 70 hours a week job. It drove me to drink regularly and blissfully fantasize about murdering people. It is difficult...but if you tell me having life, ALL of your life, revolve around work was easy I will laugh at you...I will perform taxidermy on your still twitching corpse and hang you up in my office just so I can laugh at you on a regular basis.

Ah the bitter life I lead.

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