Sing A Sad Song

Oh, Powter, I hope you'll be more than a one hit wonder. I really do. And I really that like that one hit.

There I was, walking back to the apartment this afternoon. The sky was pelting down a rain/sleet/hail combo and in addition, I was weighed down by a heavy backpack- thank you 1,000-page biochem text, thank you 300-page biochem binder, and thank you biochem notebook. Down below, my feet were navigating through a slick and dangerous ice-slush-snow-ice-dirt-ice combo and up above, my mind was still trying to process the 4-hour final I had just walked out of. It was early Friday night. All around campus, people were packing and celebrating. And I still had three more finals to crank out. So there I was, walking, trying to figure out why I was suddenly wading, ankle deep in water and chunks of ice, thinking of how wondeful life was. Hey, at least my Bean boots are dry, I thought. And just when that trace hint of optimism bubbled up in my weary soul, it came. I looked up, about to smile at no one but myself, and suddenly, SPLAT. A car zapped by a puddle just fast enough to wipe that smirk off of my face. The entire front of my body was sprayed. It was one of those moments straight out of the movies, except it's funny in the movies, and something great happens in the end, and in my case, I'm back in the apartment, ready to start my anal chem take home. Yipee kai yay.