2014年9月23日 黒川ダリア園 兵庫県川西市
You sit at the restaurant with your young son, he says he is hungry. You agree to get him dinner. You open up to the kids menu, your child is far to young for adult food. Chicken nugger stares at you from the page. You don’t understand. Your palms get sweaty and your son complains. He says he is hungry. Your mind strains, searching for an answer in a world of sweer potato and french fried. You try to order the chicken nugger, but you cannot. The words cannot escape your lips. Your son is hungry, he complains. The waitress stares at you, her head a spinning chicken nugger, her arms swinging french fried. Your son cries the tears of a chicken nugger-less child. In your mind you scream. It is raining sweer potato now, you have french fried engraved on your left temple and you do not understand. Your son weeps in the corner, he is starving. Starving for the chicken nugger.
Also, I took way more calculus than expected?? And French???
So I’m looking over my undergrad transcripts in part 345,675 of applying to grad school, and am quite unexpectedly reminded of the fact that I had to literally leave school for a semester to deal with my insane biological father’s epic tantrum. And then graduated in 3 years by taking a kajillion credits per semester and applying for a fellowship for the sweet, sweet credits.
That…sure was a thing that happened.
I guess I turned into a hard bastard in the meantime, because the only thing about the whole incident that bothers me now is that it knocked down my cumulative GPA by 0.05. Fuck that guy, seriously. I’m applying to tier 1s and 2s here. The inconsiderate prick.