Of Futility

Dear Future Me

I don’t get it, alright? I just don’t get it. I don’t get how one can expect me to put in some effort if there is nothing to look forward to. If you are telling me that we are Going to lose, How The FUCK do you expect me to even turn up for it, much less sit there and try my hand at winning?

I am supposed to go, sit for Four FUCKING hours, do some thinking and coding instead of something infinitely more satisfying like sleeping for those four hours straight, when you, my dear, dear team mates, are telling me that we are going to lose anyway. I don’t know how that drives you to even perform a bit, it just makes me want to slap you both across your faces ten thousand times for leading me to believe that we will Not give up until TWO days before the event, when I cannot even choose some slightly more motivated team partners. I want to punch somebody until my knuckles start bleeding, I am That frustrated.

Just go do it alone, okay? I’m not coming. I’m not taking part in some shameless giving up before the fucking event has even Commenced. I cannot partake in coding without being given the slightest hope of something good happening. I know that we are nowhere as good as so many other teams. I know that nearly 800 teams have registered and it’s tough competition. I know that, and I’m not deluding myself into believing that we will win. I just need a little more motivation from you, because I really wanted to take part and put in some Serious effort. I need this, because I am afraid of ending up nowhere. I hate you, because that will not happen to you, but it can VERY WELL happen to me. I fucking hate all of you.