Mini melt downs and boatloads of stress now color my existence.
So I was out grocery shopping with my parents tonight when my mother starts talking about how successful her cousin's children my age are. Degrees in accounting or some such thing and internships that want to pay them obscene amounts of money, job offers before they even graduated. With the delightful implication of, "You fucked up son."
So I went into it, told them "unfortunately I decided to major in something that I actually enjoyed rather than what will make me money, so I guess that will never happen to your kids. No, instead I'll be homeless after I flunk out of the graduate program and no one will hire me or buy any of my stories. Then it'll be me and Pilz-e living out of my piece of shit 97' Honda until I finally reach the point where I have to eat him to survive. Then I get a nice hat made out of my dead, not so tasty cat.
It was a quick, yet scary, little rant. Scary because it could actually work out that way... aside from the bit about having to eat my cat. He'd probably end up killing and eating me.
So yeah, there's that. Now the only things on my mind are the two papers I have to write for class, both with due dates in early November (1st & 5th). Still have absolutely no idea what to write about and it's killing me.
God damn it I need a break. I hate my life, I really do.
So I was out grocery shopping with my parents tonight when my mother starts talking about how successful her cousin's children my age are. Degrees in accounting or some such thing and internships that want to pay them obscene amounts of money, job offers before they even graduated. With the delightful implication of, "You fucked up son."
So I went into it, told them "unfortunately I decided to major in something that I actually enjoyed rather than what will make me money, so I guess that will never happen to your kids. No, instead I'll be homeless after I flunk out of the graduate program and no one will hire me or buy any of my stories. Then it'll be me and Pilz-e living out of my piece of shit 97' Honda until I finally reach the point where I have to eat him to survive. Then I get a nice hat made out of my dead, not so tasty cat.
It was a quick, yet scary, little rant. Scary because it could actually work out that way... aside from the bit about having to eat my cat. He'd probably end up killing and eating me.
So yeah, there's that. Now the only things on my mind are the two papers I have to write for class, both with due dates in early November (1st & 5th). Still have absolutely no idea what to write about and it's killing me.
God damn it I need a break. I hate my life, I really do.
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What's the basis of the papers you have to write? What you are going through is the exact reason I xdread going back to school. Writing is so difficult for me because I can never choose what and how to write about something, then I wait til the last minute, stress out about it to the point of illness, then end up saying fuck it.
Just take a deep breath, don't let life's bullshit hit you all at once. You'll finish what you need to, just consider it one little piece at a time, and you will succeed.
Even so I only know you through this site, I promise I will take you in and feed you before it gets to the severity of you having to eat your own pussy