*HEADDESK*
*jumps out window*
My grades last semester were awful. Fine. There's nothing I can do about it now, other than study my ass off and forget the fact that I live in the greatest city in the world come the start of Spring semester next Tuesday. My mother can't get past them. I know they're terrible, but MOVE ON. She's always thought it best to run my nose in whatever I do wrong for weeks and weeks on end, even when there's not a god damned thing to possibly be done about it. The grades are gotten. The exams are failed, the GPA is calculated. She has nothing better to do besides sit on my school's website and count out how many credits each course I took and RE-CALCULATE my f*cking GPA, then SHOW ME the calculation on paper and tell me, flat-out that I don't do ANYTHING right. She tells me that I've got one more semester to prove that I belong where I am, even though before this she gave me some cop-out about how she absolutely understands that your first semester away is an adjustment period and that she wouldn't be angry. If this is "not angry," I don't want to know what angry is. And apparently there was some sort of glitch in the scoring of points for courses; something changed with how much one of my courses was worth, and she insists she KNEW this, even though she REMEMBERS having an argument with be based on the fact that it WASN'T. And now she's telling me that I should look to transfer and that I don't belong where I am - I know it's an exaggeration, but she has no qualms with offending me until I break.
I can't get away from her. She's DOWNSTAIRS and leaving me nasty messages on AIM.
I can't wait to get out of this town.
Don't bother answering. I just needed to rant, and if I try to be on the phone to tell someone who really cares, I'll surely get my ass kicked.
A work of art is an invitation to love.