I am fucked

Tommorow I have two tests, one the dreaded Rwandan Book test, which I have not yet finished reading. I'm pretty sure at this point there is no real hope of me getting it done so I've decided that checking away messages and posting on my blog are the proper ways to prepare for the test. There is also a test in Poli 80, but since it is being given by prof. sullivan, there is no real way to guess what might be on it, or really any reason to worry about it. The exterminator woke me up this morning coming in to spray our apartment, one of the lovely perks of living in stratford hills apts. I sometimes worry about being the only one here, and walking around right after chemicals strong enough to kill cockroaches are sprayed all around. But I guess that's my punishment for not having class until 12:30. People that always tell me they have something to do when I talk to them really irritate me. Is it really the case that you have this urgent situation going on right as I happen to IM you? I mean, I can understand it sometimes, but if it seems to happen every single time, it gets old. I would rather someone just say, hey, I don't have the patience to talk to you and listen to your rambling crap today. I wouldn't be offended, because I understand that yes, I am quite a difficult person to have a short, coherent conversation with. I also dislike people that take unusually long pauses between responses, but I have learned to live with it, seeing as Robert has done this since the days of dial-up, even though he had no excuse because he was the first person with DSL. While I'm on it, today I noticed a girl that was sitting in the lefthanded desk in one of my classes, who was actually left-handed. This was pretty crazy, because it's not too often you see a girl, or anyone for that matter, that is actually left handed. Even more disturbing is that I found this strangely attractive. I've heard of a lot of weird stuff, but attraction to lefties has to be a new one. Maybe this means that I am interested in a unique girl. Or maybe it means I'm a nut who is trying to rationalize. Either way, it was pretty cool. Last night was perhaps the strangest night of work ever, as my manager (read: real adult) got towed from the service lot at the Union. Quincy didn't discover this until about 12:30, and came in to ask a large favor of me, basically to drive him around looking for a place to get a money order. So I, ever the good employee, went out to the car (Still on the Clock) and proceeded to take Quincy to 2 different gas stations and a Harris Teeter, none of which would grant a money order after 10 PM. So Quincy calls up Ashley, the assistant manager (read: student). She is asleep of course, in her dorm in spencer, but she wakes up, writes him a check for an amount he would not disclose but I assume must have been above $200 because of the giant wad of cash he handed her. So back to public safety, where he payed the fine and was on his way. I drove back to the Union, walked up still in my uniform, started locking doors as soon as I walked in, and was out the door by 1:30 anyway. Thats what I'd like to consider professionalism.