Est-ce que je me suis levé du pied gauche?

Lovely photo. <3
I love and hate French at the same time. It’s interesting to know how these two totally opposite emotions can co-exist inside this malnourished body of mine. Maybe that’s the exact reason why I’m feeling kinda insane right now. My heart is throbbing like shit. BOOM BOOM POWWWWWW! BOOM BOOM POWWWWW! Yeah the beat goes something like that. My mind is being boggled in a similar fashion as boggling jueteng balls or bingo chips or birth-control pills. And my scrotum shrivels to the mere sound of the words “homework”, “essays”, “oral exams”, “assessments”. GAAAAAAAAARHHHHH I HATE THIS. *defenestrates meself* I guess that given that this circumstance of life is a subset of all possible circumstances of life in IB, I should not be complaining at all. But I can’t help it! >.<
In less than two weeks, I have written almost a hundred pages of notes for French. Mind you. WRITTEN. You know, using pen and paper? I have sacrificed my five other subjects and my ToK essay for the sake of studying French. You know why? Because I need to understand French grammar and build up my vocabulary – nouns, verbs, adjectives, adverbs, whatever – ASAP. Because my French oral exam is this month, according to an unreliable source, and I still can’t fucking speak in French.
Je ne suis pas en forme, like seriously.
Recently turned 19, I am an International Baccalaureate slave, a Roman Catholic, now of legal age to vote, to drink alcohol, to drive, to marry, to smoke, and to f*** around. I am manufactured in the Philippines but currently utilized in Singapore. I am the thick-skinned, ingrate bastard who dumped the Government in exchange for a $100,000 two-year private scholarship. Most people in the Philippines call me Row, as a result of a passed down genetic trait that triggers laziness. Actually, my nickname is Anju, which I am really really not so fond of. But I am fortunate enough not to suffer from the ubiquitous Filipino frenzy of naming nicknames with letter 'h's sandwiched between other letters, e.g. Jhong, Jhing, Bhong, or Bhing, and from the usual repetition of the same syllables - usually created by the whole extended family giggling in delight as one utters his or her baby cry while shitting unconsciously and secretively on the lampin, inside the duyan - resulting in stuttering names like Ton-ton, Ping-Ping, Bam-bam, Ging-ging and Don-don.
I am currently having the time of my life.
I got a new knowledge from reading yours. Thank you.