SYK is taking its toll on me.

And Maroon 5 will be spinning in my head for the rest of time.

I am in a hell of a shitty mood. My parfum bottle spilled on the train today, so my bag positively reeked of Calvin Klein Eternity. And since I still don't have a locker, I had to carry it around all day. I was suffocating in all that stench. And feeling like a huge damn idiot thinking that I seem like I really did spray a whole bottle of parfum on myself.

Everyone is just slightly grating on my nerves, and I know this is just a passing phase like the one I had in France, but at the moment school feels so damn unbearable. Vivi got a 9+ from her ethics essay and sunk into her stupid I'm-stupid-pity-me mode. I hate it so bad, all the quiet whispers after class and comparing those pathetic plusses and minuses. Vivi gets to me generally these days. I can't help but wonder if I've chosen the right friends.

English class was pure torture. Another 120 minutes of raping literature. I've always hated literary analysis. Blubaum has really disappointed me by not catching some of the most obvious points in the text we read today. I know it's childish of me and to err is human and all that preachy bullshit but I just find it so damn impossible to respect a teacher after little things like these - especially an English teacher, I'm so very nitpicky about English. And the rest of the class, too. I wanted to yank off Pauliina's pretty head and stuff it in Anssi's mouth so they could both shut up for just a little bit. Yes Pauliina we do notice that the text is funny but how kind of you to raise your hand for five minutes to state that fact anyway. How considerate of you Anssi to inform us that you laughed at *takes out the handout and flips around for a minute or two* line 185 thankyouverymuch. For the love of god I thought I could avoid these idiotic remarks in SYK. But it turns out that the only difference is that in Espoo International people knew to keep their mouths shut when they had nothing to say.

The clique of identical anorexic SYK boys piss the hell out of me too, just by being there. No-one stands out. No-one looks the least bit bohemian or goth or gansta or anything at all save blatantly pissis. Tight black jeans and tight Lacoste poloshirts with the collars looking pitifully soggy from being pulled on so hard. The same wispy haircut and the same smile, the same teenrock music blaring out of the same iPod minis. I'm starting to wonder whether this is the right school for me, after all. All of a sudden the people in Mattliden seem so much cooler.

I know that I'm overreacting again and I'll be fine in a matter of days but I'm so sick of everyone right now and I wanna stay here in my pond of self-pity and yes Pauliina how clever that was a fucking metaphor.