Guilt Post

So I decided to write a post entirely about a triangle of numbers I found on the internet.  I swear on my fish's food pellets that I typed the word "random" into a Google search engine and just clicked on the first picture.  And then the majority of the post goes on about my failure at life and completely disregards the triangle.  So here goes.

THE NIGHTMARE TRIANGLE FROM COMPUTERS:  In computer class at my school, you pick the computer you will be working at for the next consecutive six weeks on the first day of class.  I always forget this fact and end up late by about two minutes, which is about three minutes too many.  Last year I ended up stuck in between Unicorn Girl (see two or three posts down) and the blond kid who doesn't give a monkey's butt about school or anything within a ten mile radius of it.  This year I was late again and although I certainly had limited choices, got to sit next to a girl whom I can talk to without worrying about having her growl at me or offer me drugs.  On Thursday this week, when we walked into Computers, which is Lazy Typer slang for Computer Class, and is by the way my second favorite specialist after art*, we were paired up with the person sitting next to us for a class-long project which will forever bring upon me a feeling of shame and stupidity.  Briana and I were partners, and at first I was all "Yay!  She's an overachiever, just like me!  We're going to ace this bad Larry!"  Ten minutes later I was yelling at myself in my head.  "SHE'S NEVER GOING TO FORGIVE YOU FOR THIS!  SHE THINKS YOU'RE STUPID AND DON'T KNOW HOW TO ADD TWO DIGIT NUMBERS!  SHE'S GOING TO TELL THE PRESS THAT YOU'RE NOT AS SMART AS YOU THINK YOU ARE AND YOU'LL FLUNK OUT OF HIGH SCHOOL AND END UP SERVING GREASY RAT MEAT TO OBESE AMERICANS AND POSSIBLY FOREIGNERS!!!"  (Not that I have anything against Americans or foreigners.  You're all lovely people.)  The goal of our assignment was to add 500 numbers together, using either pencil and paper or calculator.  Half of the groups in the class got paper, half got calculators.  Briana and I had calculators and twenty minutes.  Originally, I didn't understand this assignment AT ALL and was just adding random numbers together for her to write down thinking that the object was to have the most sums at the end of the twenty minutes.  Five minutes later, I heard kids saying "We finished the first column!  Only...  7 MORE TO GO?!?!?!"  And I began to get this awful feeling in my stomach.  It was the first sign of my impending social doom.  Because we WEREN'T supposed to be adding random numbers together to get random sums.  We were supposed to be adding them all TOGETHER to find out what the total of all 500 numbers were.  So I whispered sheepishly to Briana "I think I'm doing this wrong..."  And she gave me a look that told me I was doing it 200% wrong.  So I gave her the calculator and she added up the first column.  Then she generously allowed me to try again.  That was a mistake on her part.  I kept forgetting which numbers I had added last, and had to start over again.  And again.  And again.  Until I just started typing in random numbers, and begged Whoever is up There to give me an answer that wasn't too far off the mark.  I didn't realize the the Guy up There was out fishing at the time and I left the message on his anwering machine.  Because my prayers clearly weren't answered.  The correct total of the 500 numbers was something around 15,400.  On the slip of paper I handed in, I had written 28,000 and hoped for the best.  Needless to say, Briana and I came in last and did not get the six prize lollipops.  My nubby computer teacher made a power point the next day of who came closer to the actual number.  Each slide had two teams, their place in the competition, and whether they were Paper&Pencil or calculators.  The very first slide said 

CALCULATORS:

SARAH AND BRIANA

6TH PLACE

28,000

There was another team on there who was farthest from the correct answer but used Paper&Pencil.  So of course when that slide showed up there were some confused murmurs that went along the lines of "Sarah came in last place?  *pointing in my direction* That one?"  I panicked, clapped my Man Clap, which I use to intimidate others, and yelled "Whooooooo!"  Then, face red from embarassment, I finished the rest of the class in silence.

*SIDE NOTE:  I do not like art because I excel at it.  As a matter of fact, the only reason I didn't fail that class last year is because I was the least horrific of the delinquents in my specialist class.  I was a buoy of excellence in the sea of despair, one might say.  If one choosed to. Chose to.  Whatever.