Make it Stop!

I hate studying. Especially for stats. I've almost made it through chapter nine today, which means I have 6 chapters to go by 9am tuesday. Hot. I think I'll go sit in the caf later to study or summat and stay up real late. Not that studying is going to help me much when I really don't understand, but I can try.
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That math exam went terribly. I got 94/200, and it was worth 50% of my mark, so I ended up with a C-. *sigh* At least I passed. I never want to even look at another math class ever again. Ew.

My mum called me on my cell today and told me to call her back quick, so I ran down to a payphone and called her back. "Okay, do you have your cell phone?" Of course I bloody well didn't. Why the hell would I bring my cell with me unless I was a) going somewhere else after, or b) you told me to? Seriously, brain cells are for using. And then she tells me she has to go because she's going to Aunty Joanne's, and slips in an "Oh, we saw your grandmother today, she told me she doesn't think she'll make it to Christmas". You know, that's really what I wanted to hear while I'm trying to study. That may sound incredibly selfish, but it is was it is. I have to read the updates on how grandma isn't going to live much longer and how bad she looks in every fricking email and every phone call. I would like, just during finals, to only have to worry about myself, because I'm already on the verge of a nervous breakdown, thank you very much, and I don't need to be shoved over the cliff any quicker. Seriously, does she think I don't get it? Because I do. Every time she tells me. It's just that I can't do anything about it, I'm not God, and not entirely sure there is one anyway. Her telling me how bad things are doesn't make the situation any better. I just ... want it all to stop.

P.S.: Mark, if you're reading this, you still have to tell me what you want for Christmas.