Thoroughly Disgusted

My head is screaming in pain, so I'll have to make this quick.

I got socked in the face today, between fourth and fifth hour. Yes, that's right. Punched in the face, right between the eyes. Some idiot was trying to punch his friend in the shoulder and my head was at exactly the right height, directly in his path. By some supernatural miracle, my face isn't really swollen at all, and my eyes aren't bruised [yet]. But it took all my strength to hold back the cuss words and yelps during fifth and sixth hour.

Oh, and sixth hour? Yeah, my teacher walked past me while handing out quizzes, saw the look of controlled pained on my face, and decided it would be the opportune time to crack a joke about me. I don't even remember what it was, something about the being prepared for the upcoming quiz; I was barely attentive by that time.

And then it happened.

SHE MUSSED MY HAIR. AND CALLED ME "CUTE."

I'm not a stickler for hair. In fact, I wear a ponytail almost every day. But the fact that she TOUCHED me, that she had the nerve to reach her demon-possessed arm out and muss my hair, is beyond irritating.

I wish I could have seen my own face, or even heard my own reply. Maddy said it sounded something like "please don't touch me." RAH.

I don't like being touched. Unless you are one of my best friends or family members, you keep your hands to yourself and away from me. Far away.

And you never, never, never, NEVER tell someone who just got clocked in the face that the pain in her expression is "cute."