Thursday, January 13, 2011

breathe amy breathe

I secretly may be having a heart attack. You remember last semester when I had a mental breakdown and then threw it up all over the internet for you all to enjoy? well. Here we are again, not because I don't think I can do it. There's no way I am failing, we are safe.

But I had this realization today. What if I just don't want to do it? Cause really, I want to be in college and I know that I am where I should be. But it's like that whole thing where you know this will be good for you and you know that you need to but you just don't want to write the stupid essay, or do the stupid math assignment. (Never fear, mamacita, I did all the stupid assignments anyway)  I was dreaming about blackboard last night (raise your hand if you're a geek) and I woke up and thought. I need to sign up for English 2010 so that I can apply to work in the writing center next semester. Quick, Amy! So I actually got up and got my computer (which means I leaned over and picked it up, then used it while I was laying in bed) , got into banner, and found an open 2010 class. And then I saw that it was at 7 freaking thirty in the a.m. And I thought, no way. It's not happening, Jose. I just don't want to!

So here's my beef with my own stupid self about this.
- One. Why don't I want to go to class, specifically a writing class? It's just my major. This is a problem.
-Two. Why the heck am I suddenly as lazy as those space-traveling wierdos in Wall-e? Remember high school when I spent sixteen hours a day at school on a regular basis cause I wanted to? And I was in early morning seminary and went to school at six thirty every morning. And had a job. And I was so stressed I wanted to throw up and sometimes I would lose track of everything and Nate would have to come find me, get my stuff, wipe my tears, take me home, and tell me to go to sleep. And I was actually super happy. Here we are in college. My earliest class is at nine-thirty and I sometimes don't even wake up until like nine and then go to class in sweats. I can't find a job, which makes me feel like crap cause what if I am just not looking hard enough? I turned into one of those people I swore I would never be.
- Three. That is really wasteful. Right now I am at fourteen credits, but we have a plateau for tuition which means that as long as I am a dork freshman moocher who can't find a job, do I really have the right not to take that class when it doesn't cost anything more than what I (and by I, I mean other people with money who love me) already paid? mmm.... Not really. Does that mean I am going to go sign up for the seven freaking thirty in the a.m. class? That remains to be seen. Which makes me want to say, in the words of one Katie Johnson, " Am I a bad person? Probably."

Crap. I really should.
This is the part where I stop throwing up my panic/insecurities and go do homework and suck it up. Cause there's this whole responsible adult thing we are going for here, and I don't quite think what I am doing qualifies.

I need chocolate.

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