Yesterday began at 8:30, when I took a four hour driving class entitled "Alive @ 25" in order to reduce the moving violation I recieved from my accident last month to a non-moving violation. The instructor, Elmer Gillette, was a 68-year old man with what seemed to be the most intense love-hate relationship with our generation that I've ever seen. On one hand he thought we were the smartest generation and that if we couldn't fix all the problems in the world, no one could. But on the same token, he thought us arrogant and stupid, and for four hours he deconstructed our faults and flaws using Jungian philosophy and other intellectual schools of thought. Four hours later, I came to the realization that... wait... no... there was no realization. I just sat there for four hours pretending to listen to something that proved me no benefit other than the little piece of paper that I can now give to the attorney my mom hired so that hopefully I won't have to go to court in December. Damned hoops.
Like Reader's Digest for people who don't want to waste their time stalking me.
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