It's weird how much I've grown to hate my metal class. Not the people in it, nor the teacher, but the goddamned subject. Let's just say that if one of my past selves lived in the Medieval Period, he or she was not a metalworker by any means. Ugh ugh ugh, I'm already dreading my grade. And I can just picture my parent's reaction. A totally justified reaction, too, because they were the ones who paid for the class.
One of my worst qualities (which is kind of hard to admit) is that if something doesn't interest me, I don't care enough to do a good job on it. Take my SAT's, for example. My dad forced me to take it. I didn't want to take it, I thought it was kind of dumb. I didn't study for it until the night before the test, and I didn't sleep well that night. Kind of explains why I failed so dismally.
I know that in the long run this stupid little class won't affect me much, but right now, it's annoying.
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