Things I Want To Say

I hate exams. I wish they'd never been imagined. I hate fertile imaginations which dream up things like making people give exams, instead of letting them blog in peace. I'm sick of professors who behave like their papers are the only greenery that populates the vast, arid desert that is my life. I'm also sick of professors who don't behave like that, because they make you slog anyway. In short, I'm not very fond of the teaching community right now.

I want to get far away from all this. I want to go have a look at Ireland, to see if I can find me a leprechaun (no, I'm not angling for his gold. Have a little sense of adventure, and tone down the cynicism a little bit). I want to see if the green hurts my eyes, so used to having dust blown into them at regular intervals.

I like tea. I also like Maaza. But I have to stop drinking one right after gulping down the other. It sends my tummy into the most ridiculous spasms, like my stomach is laughing mockingly at my shocking gastronomic sense.

I hate it when I'm not allowed to talk. I also hate it when I can talk and I have absolutely nothing to say. I just want to make meaningful conversation with my mirror for an hour everyday, where my reflection and I can constructively debate the nature of existence and the meaning of being.

I dislike the fact that Maya and Grumpus (the dogs) are so horribly obvious about the fact that they're in love. Inspite of that, Maya has to be a coquette and make eyes at the two other poor dogs who keep glancing at her with such expectation in their eyes. Those two are all over each other...blech.

I am sick of the mess that my room is in. I haven't cleaned in three days and its driving me insane. I'm also really scared of this Monica-ness that seems to be getting rather too persistent these days.

I absolutely detest the fact that I'm blogging at a cybercafe. How the mighty have fallen! I also am sick of the persistent "I must be a nice girl" complex that has ruled me for all my life. I will be the meanest one in town now. Enough. If I'm bored of me, I cannot even imagine what the rest of my acquaintances must go through everyday.

Also, I hate the fact that I've written a post about absolutely nothing. It seems to me to be a reflection of the times to come which will hold....you guessed it...absolutely nothing.

Oh, and I'm sick to death of Orkut, but some weird nag in my head, who sounds quite like Janice (too many FRIENDS allusions, you say? Its my space mister. If you don't like it, beat it) keeps telling me not to delete my profile.

And I'm sick of being called Sangy/ Sangee/ Sangeeeeeeeee. Its too nice. I'm gonna be called Roberta Flack from now on. No Bobby or Bob. Roberta Flack. Full name always. Let's see how you dress that up.