Mike White vs. Tuesday.

Okay Tuesday. Enough! I swear to God, I'm going to hit you. I don't know what it is, but for some reason, Tuesday just does not seem to like me. It doesn't necessarily hate me, it just likes to annoy me. It's like that little brother (or sister, sorry I MUST be sexist) who puts his (or her, again I APOLOGIZE) finger in front of your face and says, "I'm not touching you." And you respond, "You'd better get that damn finger out of my face before I go Beatrix Kiddo on your ass and..." well if you know who Beatrix Kiddo is, then you know what I mean.

Again, it was not a "bad day." Some things are just, annoying. I mean, they are MY fault. So I have a right to at least voice MY stupidity, not the stupidity of others (though the latter is often more fun to do). Here we go.

Last night, that's Monday, I was watching Boston Legal (3 episodes back to back to back on DVD), and I just was hungry the entire night. From eating an entire sleeve of Ritz crackers (putting peanut butter on them, OBVIOUSLY), to 3 bowls of Frosted Flakes (they really are grrrrRRREAT), to half a box of Cheez-Its (so freakin' addicting!) and topping it off with, what was it, ah yes, peaches (sliced). I just was hungry all night. So I go to bed at around 3, 3:30 (A.M. folks). I wake up the next day, and well, let's just say I regretted binge eating. My stomach was in complete knots all day and never seemed to settle down. It was like a toddler who ate 1 M&M, just completely restless. So from the constant "Well I COULD vomit right now but I don't really think I need to, do I?" to the "Holy freaking GOD I have to pee" it was an interesting day, physiologically speaking.

Anyway, first class, again, as you probably know from last time, Biology Recitation. Another practice quiz. Except this time, I get a rather ambiguous question about inherited traits on the X and Y chromosome (I won't bore you with the details). I attempt to give a smart, well-researched answer. Woops, it was a trick question. The professor chuckles, happy that she made me blush (I didn't squirm, I kept my ground). Oh well, moving on.

I go back to my room, get a coffee (which I didn't spill this time), and just kind of lay around for 45 minutes until Chemistry. Ughh...gluttony, sloth in 2 days? I'm on the fast track to Satan (technically I'm already there, I'm pretty sure 1 deadly sin is enough to do it). But seriously, Lois, time for Chemistry.

Walk in. Literally the SECOND I walk in, something's wrong. Out of place. It's me. Dammit. 12:30, Tuesday January 16. I was SUPPOSED to meet with my Biology Lab Professor (really nice lady, to be honest). It's actually required. Guess what time it is now. That's right, 1 P.M. That's 30 minutes late. Considering the meeting is supposed to be 15 minutes long, I don't think it's good to walk out of the class right in front of the professor who, by the way, is saying "Hello Mike." How? I am normally (normally) pretty responsible and I hate to just randomly forget things. What happened? (Satan...?)

Okay. We can still save this. I've got 15 minutes (Chemistry/Statistics hiatus). There are email kiosks right outside of the Chemistry lecture hall. I'll email Ms. Barbieri (that's the Lab professor) and tell her I am an idiot, completely irresponsible. But wait a minute, the "o", the "l", the "i", the "e", the "shift", and the "spacebar" (alright I overused "") take about 5 strokes to register. An email that normally would take all of, at the most, 3 minutes, 5.67 seconds, now takes 9 minutes, 9.87 seconds (trust me, those numbers don't lie). What was a very well-thought apology now turns into a short excuse with no capital letters (hitting Caps Lock constantly would take even longer). Alright, well, make do, I'll figure it out in Stat, because Lord knows I don't pay attention in that class.

So after Statistics, stomach still wrenching (I wish it would just shut up), I get a response, then I re-respond, making a much better case. She re-re-responds and tells me to relax, she's sure I'm responsible. Okay, problem pretty much solved (meet DEFINITELY on Thursday at 12 noon).

So Tuesday, what's up with you? What did I do to you? I mean, sure, I called you the worst day of the week on numerous occasions, but what's a few "Tuesday is the worst day of the week" insults between friends? So you don't want to be friends anymore. Alright. You get ready, Tuesday January 23, it's going to be the best freakin' day of my life. I probably just screwed myself didn't I? Yeah...yeah I did. You know, I wasn't born with this stupidity. I learned it from...well I don't know. Anyway, I can't really complain. Life's good right now. It's busy, it's crazy, but I love it. I can't really complain. Which reminds me, American Idol AND Boston Legal are on tonight. If you've never seen Boston Legal, you really do owe it to yourself to witness the greatest thing ever created. I'm NOT hyperbolizing, nor am I sarcastic. At ALL.

Denny Crane...