Rage

Alright, so I was in fucking first period (if you can't tell already, I'm damn mad) and we had to do this thing for our mid-term. Since it's creative writing and we don't really have a true course and it's all teacher made, Mrs. Bugica said that our mid-term would be where our group would have a prompt. Then, for 3 minute intervals one person in the group would continue the story. Samuel, the kid who Katie would love to slaughter, said that it was MY responsibility to make sure that the paper printed to the right place and to finish the story. He was the last person to continue the story and we were using his laptop. So, if you printed it to the wrong place how the hell am I going to get it where I don't know where you printed it?! Like, damn! He did print it to the printer in the classroom, which was fine, but it's not my responsibility when he's the person with the laptop and he's the person who didn't know how to finish the mid-term.


If this was just regular classwork I would've said fuck it, but it was a MID-TERM GRADE. I'm sorry if you don't give a fuck, but I do. I hope he falls down the stairs today. Fuck him.