God, I love when Fr. Charles comes into town. He will forever be the only Irishman I can tolerate.
It felt so good to be back at school today. Natural. Comfortable. I was relaxed beyond any normal reasoning, and dare I say it, I am excited for the start of this new year.
Dork.
My outward persistence appears to be waning in the midst of inner aggravation. Over what, you ask? None of your business. None of my business, actually. But that's of little consequence for the moment...
What the hell is Business and Entrepreneurial Principles, anyway? "Class For Bossy People?" Did they hand-pick me for that one? Analyze my intuitive talent for scaring the excrement out of people to get them to follow in my self-serving pattern of cult-logic? Could they possess minds of such great capacity to better my own proven methods of deception? Have they hired Satan as my second block instructor? For only the Dark Lord himself could harness the kind of soulless leadership I hope to build upon in the coming years of my already-bombastic existence.
Thank you, Lyman guidance department. Thank you very, very, very much.
Ahh. The glories of wittless philosophy.
Sarcasm.
Whatever you want to call it.
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