(no subject)
I'm going to go on one of those rants where I know the only solution is to sit my ass down and do the work I have to, but am going to keep putting it off like tonight's night of 4 loads of laundry and searching for making riddles for scavenger hunts. Because who needs to priorotize? Not the fuck me, apparently.
I am doomed. Simply doomed. I'm not going to be able to finish this year and I'm never going to find housing in Arizona, and I'm not going to get a job in MN and am going to regret not staying here because I already do, and I am just going to end up with a space heater and a mattress over my parents garage, sneaking in at night to forage for food and drinking myself silly during the day for being such a major fuck-up, the perfect person who realized too late that she wasn't and couldn't handle it gracefully, because if you aren't going to be perfect, you might as well do a 180 and be the best that you can be at being a fuck-up. Because my mind only works in extremes and frankly it's easier to just sit here and not do anything... because nothing good happens without hard tear-wrenching work and I'm sick of that. I'm sick of having five major events going on right now in addition to my thesis, in addition to my other classes, in addition to figuring out this summer and graduate school. I'm sick of it, I don't want to do any of it. I am bored to tears in my classes, bored beyond tears into paralysis with the thesis, frustrated at the ineptness of the people I work with for work and these silly extras...
And I know it's all me. I put it all on me, and now I am paying for it, and I have less than 20 days to pull it all together with some shred of dignity left. And here I am, bitching about it instead of doing something. It's because I can't make myself care anymore. And that's dangerous. Oh well. Here I go.
I am doomed. Simply doomed. I'm not going to be able to finish this year and I'm never going to find housing in Arizona, and I'm not going to get a job in MN and am going to regret not staying here because I already do, and I am just going to end up with a space heater and a mattress over my parents garage, sneaking in at night to forage for food and drinking myself silly during the day for being such a major fuck-up, the perfect person who realized too late that she wasn't and couldn't handle it gracefully, because if you aren't going to be perfect, you might as well do a 180 and be the best that you can be at being a fuck-up. Because my mind only works in extremes and frankly it's easier to just sit here and not do anything... because nothing good happens without hard tear-wrenching work and I'm sick of that. I'm sick of having five major events going on right now in addition to my thesis, in addition to my other classes, in addition to figuring out this summer and graduate school. I'm sick of it, I don't want to do any of it. I am bored to tears in my classes, bored beyond tears into paralysis with the thesis, frustrated at the ineptness of the people I work with for work and these silly extras...
And I know it's all me. I put it all on me, and now I am paying for it, and I have less than 20 days to pull it all together with some shred of dignity left. And here I am, bitching about it instead of doing something. It's because I can't make myself care anymore. And that's dangerous. Oh well. Here I go.