Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Only God knows the kind of shit I have been through the past week, and it's continuing on to this week. Thanks to last week, I've gained three kilos (Ezel, I know you're laughing, and if Aunty Irene comes across this, she'd probably go... hallelujah? LOL).
People say those who stress themselves out can barely eat. I'm the exact opposite. I eat A LOT when I get stressed out. I can eat 1kg of Nestum just as snacks in the matter of two days. Last week I've spent more or less one to two hundred ringgit on food/meals. I've been attempting to store some stuff at home, but the only things left are the stuff that require you to cook them before you can consume them (eg lean meat, eggs, that kind). Snacks? The moment they land, they are gone. GONE. I freak myself out, and I think sooner or later I'm going to be afraid of myself. I feel it, but at the moment all the workload I have is kind-of keeping me sane.
Last week, I had so much trouble coping with my coursemates. I mean, I would understand if only one or two came looking for me at the most to repeat myself like a tape recorder. But eight to nine? A little too much. And how about needing to be spoonfed? You all have copies of the bloody course outline. GO READ IT YOURSELF. Is it so hard to understand/gather information from it? Why do you have to ask me to read it for you? Why can't you go to the lecturer and ask him/her instead? I can't give you extensions, you know (yes it's THAT pathetic).
The final blow was when a friend asked me to proof-read their work. I'm used to proofreading (I'm that passionate about language - yeah slap me). But I was horrified to see that the work I was proofreading was my own. My own idea, in someone else's poor English words put together. It was a storyboard for the same script I did in the previous semester. All the props, the scenes, the sequences, the effects... everything, they were MINE. I know my own works and ideas. If I were to proof-read it, this friend of mine will be submitting the exact same thing I submitted last semester. And am I okay with people submitting my work and claim it as theirs? And to proof-read my own work at that?! AM I OK?
OF COURSE NOT DAMMIT!Apparently the lecturer used my work as a sample to show the class. This friend of mine didn't know it was mine, but now they do. It's really a double blow, because this friend of mine has been listening to all my rants all week about people looking for me to spoonfeed them and asking for "a copy of your essay, to see if I'm doing the 'right thing'/'following the right format'" (Some Not-To-Be-Named-'Friends', 2007). GOOD LORD. And after all that, this friend has the nerves to ask me to proofread my own work in his words, and had the cheek to apply the words 'my (his) work' whenever this person referred to it.
And you wonder why I was a complete bitch, if not a double bitch, if not that either, a very pissed off princess/drama queen all week. Don't I have a right to be?!
And bloody hell
lah. I don't mind helping but please, don't harrass me! Don't call me on the phone like you're about to get raped or something. I've got classes too. Why are you asking me about when the deadlines of this and that is? Why are you asking me what's supposed to be written in the essays? Why are you asking me what you're supposed to present in the upcoming presentation? WHY WHY WHY? DO I look like a lecturer/tape recorder/course outline reader?! WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!
Oh no, it doesn't end there. The edit lab's transfer unit (the 'piece-of-technology' that allows you to transfer your work from computer to tape) has been abused to the extent that it is R-O-S-A-K. R-U-I-N-E-D. D-A-M-A-G-E-D. Why? Simple. The students do not bother switching off the computer before connecting the firewire cable, and neither do they bother switching on the computer first before they switch on the AC to the transfer unit. What happens? Power surge. Kzzt. You'll ruin the transfer unit, coz it requires less electricity to run. Kzzzt! KZZZT!!!
I believe things happen for a reason. Dad was frustrated that a few weeks after he bought the DV camera (which uses mini DV
TAPES), the DVD video camera is then available in the market. But, for the film enthusiast, video clips/rushes from the DV tape is far better in terms of quality and pixellation compared to the rushes recorded on the DVD. So, I have all that I need - the transfer unit, the camera, the cables - everything. Uh Oh.
Now I look like a walking transfer unit. Yes. Harrassment again. No wait, its an added 'look' actually. People still have the cheek this week to look for me to get 'a copy' of my essay (which I now straightforwardly told them I'm not giving any of my essays to anyone at any rate), and now wanting to take my whole camera set away from me. Oh HO HO. How do I know it's not going to KZZZT just like the ones in the lab huh? Huh? HUH? If it's ruined, then...? How is anyone going to transfer anything then? THEN WHAT?!
And worrying about the safety of my camera/transfer unit/cables, I have to be here and there and everywhere, to help transfer to tape. And at the end of the day, beginning of the next day, I am too tired, as I can't sleep properly, getting up frequently at night, to snack on Nestum, cheese and toast and Jacob crackers and fruits just to get back to sleep (I don't sleep until I eat something, which is bad). And I haven't gone to the gym... AARGH. I got on the weighing sclae, and ta-da. Three kilos. Just like that! AAARGH. And my essays? OMG. I'm so not happy. SO NOT HAPPY.
What am I supposed to do now? I'm stressed. I'm fat, and I know I'm fat, but I can't be bothered to do anything about it, and I'm bloody unhappy with my work, because I know I can do better, but I'm just too tired to think a little more. I'm so tired to the extend that I cannot sleep. I'm down to the last small bottle of hair tonic and my hair is falling out like crazy. In a week I think all the hair that fell out can be used to complete a doll. I'm not kidding.
You are all killing me. You're all killing me slowly... SOFTLY... (with whose song?!).
1:40 PM Azzie's got style
