I would like to point out that I failed maths in high school. Not the kind of fail where you still managed to approximate 50% and therefore actually pass, like most people seem to think is the equivalent of failing (perhaps it's more English that is not their strong point), but the ridiculous 12.5%, E minus kind of fail. And the only reason I got 12.5% was because I cheated and got the answers off someone else. Before I was at that school I was passing pretty well actually... mainly because Nyssa was a better mathematician so Emma and I would just copy everything from her. Except we failed once because the teacher noticed our assignments were identical and we couldn't explain any of the things we'd actually written, mainly because we had no idea what we'd written.

So I don't like numbers. Never have, never will. My friends went into accounting. I would rather prostitute myself on a dark corner in the dodgiest city on the planet than actually have to spend time with numbers. I'll take my chances with the drug pushers, rapists and murderers, the chances are I will probably come out of it better than if I sat down with a calculator and a page of numbers. I have been known in past employment to have to deal with accounts. Saying I spent 90% of my time tearing my hair out would be an understatement. It would be more accurate to say I spent 90% of my time tearing my hair out, swearing, ripping pages, bashing the keyboard, hitting the monitor, kicking the desk, throwing calculators, hurling the contents of the desk across the room and screaming like a banshee. Actually, I've always wanted to meet a banshee just so I could hear what they sound like... plus it would be a kind of cool career choice, I'd love to run around all day screaming in peoples faces. I already do it in my head.

I'm actually out of town this week, I'm on campus doing all my practical work for my uni course. My uni course, which I might add, that is in the medical not mathematical field. 30% of my exam is based on mathematics. This is dire news indeed and I've resigned myself to certain doom.

The laughable part of the entire week of course is the fact that I actually understand the concept. I don't like numbers, I failed maths, I'm about as clued in as a deaf person at a rock concert, yet I still understand the basic concept. What's even funnier is that I've had to explain it to other people, which is pushing me towards pulling out my inner banshee. So it can't be that difficult if even the most stupid numbers person on the planet (me) can get it.

I did pull out my inner banshee this morning at an intersection though. Some stupid idiot decided that it would be fun to stop on a green light. Even I can do that maths:

Green light + foot on accelerator = GO! = No banshee.

Green light + brakes + no traffic hazards ahead + Kaitee running late + Children of Bodom CD picking that moment to stop working = BANSHEE! + scared pedestrians.