Everything Sorta Sucks

Might as well get the inane tripe out of the way - everything sort of does actually suck.  It's the end of the semester and not only am I under a large amount of stress (arguably since the first time since midway through my junior year of high school), I am not catching a break.  Not catching a break being a gross understatement.

The most far removed from the shitstorm was the organic chemistry exam I am positive I didn't do well on at all.  That was four minutes ago, really, so maybe it isn't that far removed and the adverse effects just haven't shown themselves yet.  I've also been missing classes due to not being able to wake up due to very poor sleep patterns.  Not insomnia level (I've been there, trust me) but enough to keep me from being alert.  And on top of that I've also been having memory issues that may have arisen from this.  I misplace things much more than usual and forget to charge my phone and forget when I have to be places and basically everything important. 

Also here goes some nerdy bullshit: we recently did an engineering project for my programming class that involved reading in commands for creating a playlist and then writing these playlists into file.  The output of my program matched the output of the sample program we're given exactly, but I got a 28/85.  Why?  My program refuses to write playlists into file for any filename that ends with a character that isn't a letter.  Which makes no sense, because this error wasn't present when I submitted it.  Which means that either someone fucked with my code, or that they fucked up their grading program (which they did, since most kids in the damn class actually got a 28 out of 85 and somehow this is our fault, this error was completely unforeseeable based on the sample music libraries and playlist names we were told to use and also not at all addressed in the project specification...).  Basically, fuck this.  It's like if you submitted a ten-page paper and only had the third page graded because the rest were printed on off-white paper or something completely stupid like that.  "You were supposed to take into account that only every 10th page is white and we don't read off-white here - this is a university, bitch".

So anyway, this was one of two contributing factors toward me cancelling a visit to Ann Arbor to go to see an event played by the student organization discussed in "Fuck Math" (avoiding calling them by name so as not to appear on blog search for them, which is a bit neurotic).  I needed the time to try to salvage my grade and actually pass this damn class which I was previously doing fine in.  The other reason is that I was planning on going to the funeral of a friend of mine who committed suicide last Thursday.

Okay, here comes the genuinely depressing part. 

Might as well get this out of the way - I'm not going to his funeral due to this engineering fiasco, either.  It's the same day as the event.  I feel like a gigantic asshole, too - I never want to come across as the person who didn't care enough to trek back home to say goodbye to his friend.  I am angry that this had to happen, too.  Everything.  This is actually the first time that I've ever lost anybody that I was close to.  And even worse is the fact that it was a suicide.  It's worse because even though we all know better, I can't help but think that I could have prevented this.  Don't criticize me for thinking that - it is, I feel, a natural response when something like this happens - even though realistically I could not, since we don't even live in the same city anymore.  Guilt that you didn't make someone's life nice enough for them to want to keep living, I mean.  I don't want to get into the details my relationship with him here, but it needs to be said that he was one of my favorite people.  I knew him through pit and tennis and high school and he was always putting smiles on everybody's faces.  He is missed deeply.  I miss him deeply.

The one spot of hope in this entire event is that I know for sure that the one real friend I've even made on campus was a great choice.  My neighbor Danny Boy (actually a girl, but I use nicknames here) heard me crying - understandable considering that I pretty much lost it after hearing the news - and came over a little while later to see what was up. (Thank you for not doing this while I was sobbing hysterically, by the way, that would have been incredibly awkward.)  I told her about what happened and she spent the next hour comforting me like a surrogate mother or something, even though it's questionable whether I needed it at that point anymore.  (Well I did, it's just that I was done bawling and had moved onto a shock-like "what the hell do I do now" state.)  It was, by a mile, the nicest thing anybody's ever done for me on campus.  I was given an incredible display of compassion that I won't ever forget and I'm so grateful for it.  I just really hope that such a display ever needs to be given again.  Because that would suck even more.

Unfortunately, that's not all.  A major part of what's seriously sucking can't even be discussed on this blog because it involves a confessed reader.  Which sucks.  I guess maybe there'll come a day for this subject to be discussed at length, but that time is not now.