Oh, Merlin's underpants, if that greasy, hook-nosed bat of a professor could go one day without verbally attacking me and hurting my fragile little heart, I'd be content.
Oh, Merlin's shoes, if that pale-faced, platinum-blond senior with the ferret face could go one day without sneering at me and puncturing my girlish little fantasies, I'd be content.
Ahem, this is the helpless diary of a girl who has countless wishes every day.
Hey, that's sad, can I just do it myself?