Thursday, February 19, 2009

Bite Your Tongue.

I'm irritated. I'm annoyed. I'm peeved. I'm exasperated. I'm frustrated. I'm ticked off. I'm seriously perturbed. I'm vexed. I'm exacerbated. I'm cross. I'm displeased. I'm piqued. I'm absolutely, positively, grammatically splenetic.

-_-

Who's bright and brilliant idea was it to have underpaid construction workers throw around beams of reverberating metal right outside my window at 9am in the damn morning??? The resounding, teeth-grating CLANG of a flexible, metal alloy beam bounced around my room and off my head at the rate of too-many per minute. AND this wondrous state of events continued for more than an hour. Bravo, you authoritarian figures who planned this marvellous timetable. You have ensured that two entire blocks of panda-eyed students now have to go out and make concealer manufacturers ecstatic in this time of receding economy.

At 9am, someone who has been studying all night wants to sleep in the next day because he/she doesn't have school. If he/she does have school, he/she'll be gone by then. Obviously, these people have never been young or have never stayed up late because now that it's 12.30pm in the afternoon, all work has stopped and the only sound I hear is a ticked off bird scolding its mate for not cleaning up after the worm breakfast.

I've said my piece. May everything be alright with the world once again. Peace.

*Do NOT fling about metal beams within earshot of me or I'll make you eat your own spleen.*


|Basking @| 12:14 PM|

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