kill . . . me . . . now . . .
I've done it. I've sunk to the lowest of the low.
I bought Ramen.
At Wal-Mart.
No, I'm not kidding.
10 cents, the wal-mart oriental kind has no animal product in it, I'm broke and stressed . . . . I know. I know.
*hangs head in shame*
In other news, I got a zero balancing body session today. Kind of like massage, but no. The effect was great, but went away immediately after I left the practitioner's office b/c I'm so stressed. I paid fifty fucking dollars for a session that I can't even enjoy so I can get a fucking A in my bodywork class. Thanks, Margaret. Now I'm MORE in debt. Thanks for making it sothat we have to PAY to getour grade.
My room's a mess. MESSMESSMESS. It's fucking pigsty. I can't move away from my desk because I can't because I'd fall over. There's shit all over my bed, papers everywhere, empty soda bottles, empty energy drink bottles, spilled coffee, empty food wrappers. It's gross. It grosses me out. And stressesme out. Am I gonna clean it?! No. I'm just gonna shuffle the mess around because THAT'S ALL I HAVE TIME FOR.
You know why? Because tonight I have to write a thesis paper and complete my writer's notebook. Tomorrow, I have to write a 7-8 page Bodywork paper, do my recovery scrapbook (ALL OF IT), and be ready to present it at class tomorrow at six. Then, for Thursday, I have to have a final draft of the thesis. Then I have to pack everything up and move out.
Oh, also, in my spare time , I need to apply for grad schools and loans. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
Finals week at its best!
*goes insane about now*
And yet, part of me LOVES all of this. Weird. Okay, minus the being out $50 and spending an hour relaxing when I could have been working!
I bought Ramen.
At Wal-Mart.
No, I'm not kidding.
10 cents, the wal-mart oriental kind has no animal product in it, I'm broke and stressed . . . . I know. I know.
*hangs head in shame*
In other news, I got a zero balancing body session today. Kind of like massage, but no. The effect was great, but went away immediately after I left the practitioner's office b/c I'm so stressed. I paid fifty fucking dollars for a session that I can't even enjoy so I can get a fucking A in my bodywork class. Thanks, Margaret. Now I'm MORE in debt. Thanks for making it sothat we have to PAY to getour grade.
My room's a mess. MESSMESSMESS. It's fucking pigsty. I can't move away from my desk because I can't because I'd fall over. There's shit all over my bed, papers everywhere, empty soda bottles, empty energy drink bottles, spilled coffee, empty food wrappers. It's gross. It grosses me out. And stressesme out. Am I gonna clean it?! No. I'm just gonna shuffle the mess around because THAT'S ALL I HAVE TIME FOR.
You know why? Because tonight I have to write a thesis paper and complete my writer's notebook. Tomorrow, I have to write a 7-8 page Bodywork paper, do my recovery scrapbook (ALL OF IT), and be ready to present it at class tomorrow at six. Then, for Thursday, I have to have a final draft of the thesis. Then I have to pack everything up and move out.
Oh, also, in my spare time , I need to apply for grad schools and loans. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
Finals week at its best!
*goes insane about now*
And yet, part of me LOVES all of this. Weird. Okay, minus the being out $50 and spending an hour relaxing when I could have been working!