A thanksgiving and a bitchfest
So... today was a shitty day. Not in that anything particularly bad happened, it's just been a terrible day. I've been incredibly homesick, I had a fight with Jon, I'm incredibly stressed over my essays (one of which is due tomorrow and I still haven't started), and to top it off, it's that time of the month. Fuck.
I feel guilty about crying because it could all be so much worse. I have my health, a great boyfriend who has helped me out since day one, and parents that will not be in the least bit upset if I bomb any of these essays.
Dad: "Getting a bad grade on an essay isn't the worst thing in the world. It's not even in the top ten."
Still, a shitty day is a shitty day. Oooh, but I do have ice cream. And Bailey's...
Oh fuck yes, it's Bailey's milkshake time. I knew I came to this country for a reason!
I feel guilty about crying because it could all be so much worse. I have my health, a great boyfriend who has helped me out since day one, and parents that will not be in the least bit upset if I bomb any of these essays.
Dad: "Getting a bad grade on an essay isn't the worst thing in the world. It's not even in the top ten."
Still, a shitty day is a shitty day. Oooh, but I do have ice cream. And Bailey's...
Oh fuck yes, it's Bailey's milkshake time. I knew I came to this country for a reason!