I left normally to go to school. At least, intended to. Was delayed by almost fifteen minutes because I couldn't find my cigarettes which I could have sworn were in my coat's pocket. I decided to leave them and went biking on my slightly grumpy way. First corner I turn and one of the handgrips pops off my handlebars. I lose balance, fall onto the sidewalk, scrape my knee and tear my trouserleg. Further engrumped I returned home, quickly put on whole trousers, headed for class knowing I'd be late.
I was late. Teacher was later. Got a ****ty test result back (3,9 out of 10) which I already knew. Apparently I can't make the abstract abracadabra he wanted out of a simple problem. Almost maximally grumped I go to next class, realize I feel nauseous and just go '**** it, I'm heading home'. Found the cigarettes in a different pocket in my coat.
Only administration wasn't open yet for me to sign off so I'll have to call them. +
Sheer spite and malice made me salt the scrape.