Like, What The F***?

Like the saying goes - speak of the devil and he shall manifest himself in all the wrong ways and at all of the wrong times. Not that I ever really mention him...except when I'm cursing and saying things like "bloody hell" and "what the hell?" but that doesn't really count because I'm mentioning the residence of the devil and not him (directly); but that's not the point. Weather or not you mention the rat bastard, he manifests himself, like i said before, in all the wrong ways at all the wrong times. Kind of like a mix between superstition an Murphy's Law. Well I'd have you know that this saying is no superstitious banter and experiencing it first-hand is no basket of roses. I am living proof that the son of a bitch is really out there to mess you up... permanently! Take a look at my weekend:

Thursday

As if feeling like a dog dying of AIDS and mange wasn't bad enough, my Mathematics lecturer had to come in on a double period (2 hours long) and give us an exam.
The good: it was open-book
The bad: the exam was longer than all the Harry Potter books combined with my cousin's criminal record stapled to the end just for good measure.
On each page, numbers, symbols and operands gurned at me. Their grins and taunts strumming on my nerves as I tried my best to navigate my way through the maze of torment and inevitable failure that they have set forth for me to endure.
1 hour and 25 minutes later, my final full-stop lifted my corpse out of the labyrinth and transported me to the end. To the bright light that I have yearned for during the hours passed. I walk down the desert of misery that is the school hall - bruised, battered and waiting for the buzzards to arrive.
I literally collapse on a bench and reach for my lifeline. I used it to call my friend who lives nearby to see if I would be lucky enough to seek refuge and shelter; flee from those cursed halls and avoid the angry sharks that wait at the transportation center. She was home, it was OK for me to stop by. I was in luck.
The journey to her house seemed further than usual but the music in my ear through my iPod shaved a few steps off the journey.
When I had arrived, the house was alive with activity. An old friend came to visit before I reached, so at least I wasn't the disrupting factor of the evening.
I stayed there, rested, recuperated and waited for the angel of life-giving (mom) to arrive and carry me home.

Friday

Not enough sleep in my system, not enough time to relax; either way, I had to get up and prepare for a meeting that was scheduled about the website I'm working on for St. Francois Girls' College.
I donned my robes after doing the whole "prepare to go out ritual".
Upon turning the door knob, the phone rang - mom was calling me to do her a small advertisement for a garage sale that she would be hosting.
Being the person I am, I told mom that I was late for a meeting with the principal of St. Francois Girls' College.
Now in this paragraph, there are some things that I'd like to say about this woman with whom I have to meet, but for the sake of peace and the existence of my blog I will digress.
My mom understood the situation and bribed me with a direct drop to my destination after her little flyer task was done. I couldn't refuse. We all know how I love public transportation in this country.
I sat there, hammering away at the keyboard, longing to insert that final piece of clip art - my invisible finish line.
Finally, mom arrived home and the flyers were reviewed, edited and published faster than a rabbit gets fucked.
Next stop - meeting... but wait, what's this? A phone call?...
Answering that phone was an action, irreversible and as regrettable as not "pulling out" during a sexual encounter. The words that slithered their way through that speaker found their way to the core of my nervous system, merged with the 32 solder point monstrosity that is my brain and delivered more amps of vicious charge than is allowed - the meeting was canceled.
Maybe if I didn't have notes and a small presentation prepared, the meeting's cancellation would have been a gift wrapped blessing, but both my time and adrenaline were wasted - the two things I need more than anyone can imagine (if I am to make it through this weekend).
My body shut down temporarily, but my reservoir of Jesus' grace (my back-up generators) kicked in and I was re-animated, but with that small "eye-twitch" defect.
No matter how angry I got though, I couldn't let it out. I played it cool. A duck on a pond - on the surface things are cool and under control, but beneath is a hidden system of chaotic locomotion.

Friday Afternoon

Despite the cancellation of the meeting, I was still invited to go down to the school to tweak the site's interface and give it that hard to achieve "Francois Feeling". At least the day didn't completely go to waste.
Ah, the power of the vagina - being around all those girls for so long did the impossible; and the strange thing is that they didn't even try! I was defused and possible to be reasoned with... but only for a little while
When the little gathering was over, my girlfriend and I decided to end the day with a little movie viewing.

OK Sorry to disappoint, but I can't quite remember how this day ended. This was a draft that I worked on a while ago and decided to publish today. What I can remember is a chinese man in a brown jersey pissing me off with his bad walking habbits, me getting trouble to get a taxi to go home and back and arriving at my girl's house only to see that she was still in her uniform and chating playfully with her schoolfriend, ignorant to the fact that I was on the virge of breaking out the old chainsaw (vrinnnn vrinn vrinnnnnnn!!!! - wicked sound effects) As fo the movie and whatnot, I can't remember, but i'm sure it ended fairly bitter... as it usually did... back in the old days.

So, hope you had a good read, sorry about the anti-climax :(