You know how sometimes people (and by people I mean mostly me) believe in the weirdest things?

Like when crossing zebra roads its bad luck to step on the black stripes? Or when you can run two bus stops and still catch your bus means you can do anything? OR OR even better, you catch a double decker 186 bus!? Whaaaaaat?!

So... I believe in this sort of silly stuff. I believe that if my Harry Potter Books are not placed in chronological order in my bookshelf, my grades will suffer. Imagine my horror then when I realized that Book 4 (The Goblet of Fire) has been sitting around in the wrong corner of my bookshelves all this while as I packed, moments ago! GASP! I had to stop everything I was doing and blog about this because it's such a life-changing revelation and makes me reconsider the fundamentals of my entire belief system.

Ok maybe, that was an exaggeration. But I swear, I will get to the end of this mystery! Who moved my books? When did it happen? Was it before my exams or after? I think I'm really too addicted to Sherlock Holmes...how am I going to survive after Monday? I can't believe it's over so soon...ARGH I cannot watch it because everyone on fandom is saying that it's going to be worse than the Reichenbach Fall and after all I've been through, I cannot live through that again lol!

Good thing school's starting soon at least I have some fake pretense of a rational reason to hold my sanity together.

Blaurgh! I don't understand how I am behaving brand new 21 year old adult at all. I don't understand the tiniest bit of it. I don't understand how I can be the same person that came up with all those impressive resolutions only fall and have it crumble into dust within 11 days and 13 hours exactly. My behavior is inexcusable.

Except that I am only human. What a pathetic excuse! To blame it on the sole intricacies of existence. What are you now you..you-you little...yes indeed, what am I?

That's the question. I think I am still the same person I was when I fangirled over HP...sometimes, I wonder if I will be the death of me. To argue with oneself I want to win and yet... I can't possibly win and lose at the same time? I refuse to be Schrodinger's cat. And yet I am.