oh dear god.
I'm taking the German class from hell. It's like a philosophical reading of nobel prize author's works. Oh god. I don't want to do this class. I actually want to enjoy my summer. I really don't like atlanta. it has pan handlers at every corner outside my class building. The campus is intermingled with the city. My confidence in speaking the language is really shaken. I don't know if I can do this class. I'm giving it a week. If I end up having a break down because of this class, I'm dropping it. I suddenly have the heavy burden of pleasing my mother to graduate early. hell, even attending college was practically her idea. Have I ever really wanted to study more? One class has shaken me. I talked to Jeremy for a few hours last night, just really ranting and crying really. I don't know what I'd do if he hadn't been there for me. He's my anchor. Well I've got to get back to my book, Herman Hesse's "Steppenwolf" in its german form... Somebody come into my class and shoot me please.