Screw you, two weeks of finals.

Fear my wrath!

I'm not afraid of you.

Sure you are. Everyone is afraid of two weeks of law school finals.

I'm not afraid of your tests. In fact, bring them. Let me tear them to shit.

You're just saying that. I know you're in a bad mood.

You could say that again.

Ha! You fear my wrath!

I'll tell you what. Call off your freakin' annoying little minions and I'll show you something to fear.

What do you have to show me?

How much I can rip your sorry exams to shreds if you will just let me focus on studying and forget about the bullshit.

Aww, poor baby. But what bullshit could I be throwing at you?

Let's see. On Friday I really appreciated how my computer not only crashed in the middle of class, but then refused to restart or even load the operating system. I could have dealt without enduring five hours that day wondering if had lost 220 pages and a whole week's worth of work. Work I did over Thanksgiving. Over a holiday I spent alone. I could have dealt without that.

Yeah, but your IT department at school finally recovered your files and you didn't lose anything.

Nope. Didn't lose anything. Not five hours I could have been doing work or thinking about school and focusing on finals and not worrying about bullshit.

One thing. No big deal.

I could have dealt without learning my floppy drive didn't work when I tried to install the software I need to take my exams. I could have dealt with not having to spend $60 that I don't really have so that I can take my exams on my computer.

Cheese with that whine?

Not just yet asshole. Of course, if I had known that when I tried to install the software this afternoon that it wouldn't let me, and that our IT department would respond to my problem by saying, "Hmm, that's a tough one. I've never seen that before," then you know, maybe I would not have felt the urgency to spend money I don't have.

So write your exams out by hand.

Great idea. Give me three hours to take a test with my crap ass handwriting and frequent cramps I get after writing for an extended period of time. Why are you suddenly flinging all this bullshit at me?

Because I can.

I think I've taken my quota. Start with someone else.

Whatever. Good luck tomorrow.

Kiss my ass.