She says that I wasn't alright today. My roommate I mean. Of course I wasn't. You've been bugging the hell out of me about this assignment that we need to do (not a partner project. Separate assignments that we both have because we have the same class but at a different time).
She keeps saying, "Hey let me know when you're working on it so we can work together."
and, "I find this homework pointless. I need to study for organic chemistry, so we should work together so we can get this done faster."
Then you want to "work together" when you haven't even read the required pages to fucking do the assignment. I think not. I told her to go read it. I guess that was her first sign that I wasn't doing okay.
I come back from a poetry slam (awesome by the way. With special guest Tim Stafford. Look him up on youtube/google) and go back to working. Here she comes again.
"I worked on it but I still have no idea what to do. Have you worked on it?"
"Yeah," I said, "I think I'm about done."
"Oh, can you look over mine and see if it's right."
"I don't know. I'm not even sure mine is right." I said.
"That's okay. I'd just like it if you read over mine. Tell me what's wrong."
I blew it. I told her I can't fix hers if I can't fix my own. I didn't swear or anything. My voice elevated. She asked if I was okay. No I'm not okay. Everytime we have these assignments, you basically try to make me do the whole damn thing. I don't need nor want to be used.
But I didn't say that. I told her I had a headache.
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