Herpderpeth

I have arriveth. *O Fortuna plays in the background*

Come, for I delivereth messages of ire and ennui for all of Open Diary to readeth.

(… No, I am not on drugs, but thank you for the concern.)

You know, I honestly feel bad for coming here only whenever I wish to vent out about my life’s little failures. I know that most of my previous entries were negative in nature, which is saddening. I should have also made entries for the good times I’ve had, so that my future self will thank me for not getting bored. *snicker*

Yes, I am back to ramble again. If I had a psychologist, I probably wouldn’t need to do this. But then, times are hard, and we have to make do of what we have. So Internet, I send out my love to you. And to mom for paying the bills (plus a whole batch of other things, like cookies). 

So. I am a Bachelor of Science in Something That I Really Don’t Like now. Hurrah. I snatched a Special Honors medal as an added bonus. What is terrible about that is I know I could have become a Cum Laude in the least, but I just had to be lazy in my four years in college. If I try to look on the bright side, getting the honors is pretty cool for a grief-ridden lazyass like myself.

Do you know how it feels like when you’re attending college to get a degree you hate the most, thinking how it will be like being stuck in a certain distasteful job you’ll have for the rest of your life, and reflecting on how you could have avoided all that by continuously persuading your parents so you can shift to a better, cheaper course? I don’t have the motivation to study hard because I am drowning in the cesspool of denial. (Ha, y u so deep?)

It’s like, your parents force you to eat vegetables because they are healthy and good for you, so you try it to please them and probably do yourself a favor. But still, you insist that there is this thing called ‘burgers’, and they are perfectly good; they still have vegetables (okay, vegetable?) but they taste damn better than the fricking vegetables. But noooo, they insist on the vegetables because they know a lot more than you since they’re older and they love you.

Told you I’d be rambling.

Alright, moving on.

So. I graduated with Special Honors. And I’m damn happy that in my batch, no one had higher honors than Cum Laude. I just thought no one deserved getting a Magna nor a Summa, except for this one person who unfortunately transferred to another school. … Gawd, I’m too young to hold grudges. *pfft* Back to the topic. I have two group mates who are Cum Laudes, and I honestly don’t mind because I think they deserve that in the least. They always had celestial grades compared to mine, but I don’t mind. The faculty gives them ‘special treatment’ but I don’t mind. Okay, maybe I do on the second one. It’s hard to get stuff done without the faculty, anyway.

But for them to subtly look down on me. Ehrmagerd.

Lulz, I don’t mind. I love playing the underdog. But there’s a limit on how much you do that.

See, we have our thesis defense tomorrow. …Yes, I graduated without publishing because derp. Once upon a time, in a land far, far away from Procrasti-Nation, I decided to read the thesis draft those two made. There are eleven of us in the group, and yes, only the two Cum Laudes were doing the work because herp derp. I saw a generous amount of faulty grammar and decided to leave it as is.

Weeks have passed, and they were saying that the thesis is almost finished. So I check up on the latest draft. Still with the same issues. I have raised the problem to them and offered to proofread and edit the whole thesis for them. Proofreading isn’t really that difficult so I also offered to help with the last part, Chapter 5 – Recommendations section. "No, no, don’t worry about that. We’re almost finished anyway. Just do what you have to do."

So, no complaints. My group mate lent me her laptop. As she set it on a table, she sat right in front of it. When she turned it on, there was this long lag. I told her that I can close the unneeded running applications to help the poor thing, but she refused. I asked her why, but she just said, "Just leave it." … Okay. Long awkward silence mocked us as we await the ancient machinery to work its magic. "…You know, it would really help if–" "Just. Leave it."

From that point on, I have decided that I need to choose the people I argue with. 

She opened the document containing the draft. She started scrolling as if I couldn’t do it myself. I blurt out, "There’s a problem in there. I think it goes better as blah blah blah…" "Okay." She started to type the blah blah blah in a painfully slow, erroneous manner. I felt like my I had restraints on my hands and needed someone else to help me type for the editing job. **’Blah blah blah’ is my metaphor for the actual thing.

As it got quite tedious, I couldn’t help but think of a kind alibi for her to shoo away. "Hey…I think J. and A. need serious help with Chapter 5. I got this, so–" "I don’t know how to do that so I’ll pass." As if she could do better if she stayed with me.

I don’t know how, but I managed to have her laptop to myself and made her go away. It felt absolutely liberating.

I did my best with the editing and I was quite satisfied with what I have done. It quelled my anger over having my Thesis Introduction dumped because the one done by the faculty was supposedly ‘much better’. Because, you know, they’re the faculty.

And thus brings us back to the present– why am I making an entry at such an ungodly hour when I should be studying for the defense tomorrow? Am I here because I am so bored that I started reminiscing about all of the bitter things I’ve kept pent up for years?

The answer is, maybe yes?
But absolutely no.

Gah. What is with this complicated drama I keep on creating? Lololol.

It turns out that the printed copies to be presented tomorrow contains the unedited, preferred version of our draft. Yay. You know, the one with the– aaargh, I shouldn’t make fun of it.

I really, really don’t mind that they didn’t bother using my edited version. But.

My name is on that thesis, dammit.

I cringe whenever I think that someday, someone will read our thesis and will laugh out loud because, maybe, the said thesis would be the biggest joke published in the academic world. And my name is on it.

I’m pretty sure you’re thinking, "Well you shitty ingrate, why don’t you make your own magnificent, grammatically-perfect thesis, then?"

You’re damn right about me being shitty. But make my own? Pfft.
Not until I have this lazyass surgically removed.

**I admit I am not one of those god-like nerds who construct their sentences with grammar so perfect, you start a cult for them. I don’t have extensive knowledge on thetechnicalities of the English language, nor any undiscovered fetishes for high-grade literacy. But I did finish high school and have healthy common sense. Those are usually enough for basic editing. *wink*

But maaaaan. Our thesis. BAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. *O Fortuna slowly fades in the background*