R.I.P. Squirrel Norman

In the span of 3 days, I got my first ticket, ran over a squirrel, (basically, it was insult to injury because the poor thing WAS ALREADY DEAD) and realized that my Spanish class is out to get me. Will somebody smart please tell me how to differentiate between preterite forms and imperfect forms?? GEEZ LOUISE, it’s like one hit after the other. High school, I am so sorry for complaining about you. I KNOW that things could be worse. I know. I’m GRATEFUL for what the good Lord has given me. I just get a lil bit (ok, A LOT of bit) overwhelmed sometimes. Who doesn’t? For those that say “nah, life is good” GOD BLESS YOU PEOPLE, I wish I was you…and obviously you aren’t taking college level Spanish. I wish I was cool enough to be bilingual. If you are, props to ya. I have a dream. A dream where everybody is a metaphorical hipster (meta-freaking-PHORICAL) and throwing around the word “peace” like there’s no tomorrow. Tell me that wouldn’t be a good world. Maybe there would be a few issues with people who have different ideas of “metaphorical hipster”, but I still have to work out the kinks. I propose that everybody just chills the frick out.

P.s. I think I would make a good president.

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