So, my mom was making a salad last night. She likes to put sliced grapefruit in her salad, so she keeps a jar of them for that very purpose. I was talking to her and noticed something was up with the back of the jar, so I took a picture for you guys! Observe:

The freakazoid seemed a bit annoyed with IG today, but she was pretty normal (Well, as normal as she can be, anyway!) to me.

Me: FCG!
FCG: Hi!
Me: Your hair looks good today.
FCG: Thanks!
Me: There's this one piece that's like, REALLY shiny and awesome. Can I... um... Can I touch it?
FCG: Of course!

So I just sat there for a moment, petting my freakazoid, and all was well. Nothing was making me rage, and I wasn't in any excruciating pain. I was just sitting there, running my fingers through her curly blonde hair. Perfection. Petting freakazoids is pretty theraputic; I almost forgot how much I hate being at school. But then, class started! GRRRR! I didn't get a freakazoid hug, but I suppose getting to pet one is the next best thing. Ahhh, her hair is soooo soft... I'm sure she'd let me touch it every day if I just asked, but I'm afraid to seem weird.

Oh, and my history teacher made me RAAAAAAGE! As soon as I walked into the classroom today, this occurred:

Her: Are you feeling better?
Me: Yes, I am!
Her: Great! Here's a big worksheet I handed out yesterday. It's due tomorrow.
Me: Can I have an extra day since I w--
Her: No. :D

Come ON, Mrs. History Teacher! Everyone else gets 2 days. Is it really my fault that I have a kidney stone? So now, I not only have that but I also have one of those STUPID summaries that she loves to give so much. They don't even help. Like... at all. And they take so freaking long. I'm multitasking as I'm typing this; I'm doing a little history bullshit and typing a little too. There is also apparently an upcoming test, but I haven't even had time to freaking read the rest of the chapter because of all the bullshit she gives us for homework! When I was sick, I was writing that freaking essay and doing the 153647 questions she assigned! UGH! And she wonders why we all practically fail every test. Even my chemistry teacher, who is usually mega strict, was more sympathetic to my condition!

Anyway, I suppose I should do that stupid worksheet now. HISSSS. Do not want. I just want to go back to petting the freakazoid!