Submitted, and am feeling even worse.

I made the deadline for the magazine, and with a pretty decently edited story (Though I think it's practically boring, and thus a total fail) and was pretty ecstatic about simply being able to construct that story in five days. So the last two days have been a break from writing entirely (Well... I just don't have anything I want to write, actually) and have just been drinking and hanging out with friends.
For a laid-off, poor, unhappy person, these past two days have been nice.

Already, though, it has collapsed, and it's only 9 am.

I even made it, mostly, to school on time (8 minutes late) and, with my messanger bag begging to snap, made it to my Math Class. I walked up to the door, my book in hand, and put my hand on the door handle.
But I didn't go in. I just stood there, listening.

I'm failing Math. Not failing, failed. I can't recover it this symester, and I don't really care too much. I failed last year and, also, didn't care much. Except this year, though, I poisoned the routine.
Last friday, I didn't go. And the friday before that I didn't go. Last tuesday, when I was there, it was just a very solemn class, as we were given those "rate your teacher" sheets. I can't explain it, but last tuesday, silently, we recognized my circumstance, my total disregard for her subject, and the fact that I would remain in her class like a rotten egg, present but very distant (I had hoped, like last year, that maybe I'd snag a few things and potentially pass next symester).
Except I didn't go last friday, and today, when I got to that door, I just knew that I shouldn't be there, that I shouldn't go in. I could just see everybody looking at me, quickly finding in their minds that, indeed, I do occasionally come to this class, and resuming working. But, for my teacher and I, it would just be awful. I'd interupt her lesson by coming late, and she'd stop and look at me with such malice, or, even worse, pity, pondering why this fool even tries. And I'd take my seat, lumping my messanger bag to the floor, greeting my intrusion to her lesson with keen clarity of my uselessness.

No, it just wasn't happening.
So, schedule when I started school;
8am - Math 012
9.15 - Ethics
12.30 Creative Writing
2pm - Western Civ.

Current Schedule
12.30 Creative writing
2pm Western Civ.

Success story!

And it's just awful. Now I'm in this library for the next four hours waiting for my next class, unsure of what I am even doing with life. I'm just broke and ruining everything, and all the while I am searching on my psp to buy and download a game, instead of paying rent or something useful.

Paradox.
I wish.
Stupidity, is what this is.


Moment's like this when I regret dropping out of highschool.
The worst part about dropping out of highschool, you ask?
West Virginia University, that university with the highest amount of partying and kicking kids off of campus, won't even accept me.
I am literally stuck at OCC until I comply to their liberal arts standards (Which is bullshit, seeing as all I want to do is write!) and it's just awful.

Good thing I have only ONE story out for submission at the moment....

Fucking-A