(no subject)
A few days ago I slipped the last remnants of my scholarly mediocrity into a shinny metal mail slot.
I thought perhaps I would feel liberated by it all but it was rather anti-climactic.
I stood there for a while, making sure I was putting things in the right slot.
Then I walked away and went to work.
I'm still just as stressed.
Mostly about money. Or lack thereof.
And also about when and how I will move myself home.
And about finding employment fast enough once I'm there so that I can move out of my mom's house before we can get sick of each other.
I'm sure everything will work out in the end.
But for now I really just feel mighty uneasy.
And I don't know how to deal with it.
I thought perhaps I would feel liberated by it all but it was rather anti-climactic.
I stood there for a while, making sure I was putting things in the right slot.
Then I walked away and went to work.
I'm still just as stressed.
Mostly about money. Or lack thereof.
And also about when and how I will move myself home.
And about finding employment fast enough once I'm there so that I can move out of my mom's house before we can get sick of each other.
I'm sure everything will work out in the end.
But for now I really just feel mighty uneasy.
And I don't know how to deal with it.