INSANELY BORED.
I'm bored.
Boredom leads me to do crazy things, like watch Lifetime movies and eat Frosted Mini Wheats with milk that's past its expiration date. And now my mouth tastes like ass. Oh, Sundayyy, how I hate you. Blah.
Fall classes start tomorrow. I'm not having a panic attack at the moment, but I may before I go in. Or, you know, while I'm in the hallway thinking about going in. Or while I go in. I can feel it in my chest - tight and oppressive. Math and music and criminology. Each semester brings new worries. There needs to be a college-for-dummies handbook, a pick-me-up for kids who couldn't make it through high school but hope to graduate college. Or maybe each semester can come equipped with a pill to kick the nerves when you register. Because all I am is nerves. Nerves and fear and neurosis.
I'll be okay. I'm always okay...but it's enough to make my head hurt. I've been looking forward to it since last semester ended. It's like a bug. Or a drug. I need it to keep my mind off of real things, like the fact that I have no life. Which, okay, college is REAL. College is more real than anything else I've experienced. A future is ATTAINABLE. But I guess I haven't grasped that fact yet. I haven't come to terms with the idea that sometimes it's okay to try things that I'd normally be too scared to try. I haven't comprehended the fact that I'm DOING this.
Boredom also leads me to talk too much. Go figure. I've been talking to myself all day.
Boredom leads me to do crazy things, like watch Lifetime movies and eat Frosted Mini Wheats with milk that's past its expiration date. And now my mouth tastes like ass. Oh, Sundayyy, how I hate you. Blah.
Fall classes start tomorrow. I'm not having a panic attack at the moment, but I may before I go in. Or, you know, while I'm in the hallway thinking about going in. Or while I go in. I can feel it in my chest - tight and oppressive. Math and music and criminology. Each semester brings new worries. There needs to be a college-for-dummies handbook, a pick-me-up for kids who couldn't make it through high school but hope to graduate college. Or maybe each semester can come equipped with a pill to kick the nerves when you register. Because all I am is nerves. Nerves and fear and neurosis.
I'll be okay. I'm always okay...but it's enough to make my head hurt. I've been looking forward to it since last semester ended. It's like a bug. Or a drug. I need it to keep my mind off of real things, like the fact that I have no life. Which, okay, college is REAL. College is more real than anything else I've experienced. A future is ATTAINABLE. But I guess I haven't grasped that fact yet. I haven't come to terms with the idea that sometimes it's okay to try things that I'd normally be too scared to try. I haven't comprehended the fact that I'm DOING this.
Boredom also leads me to talk too much. Go figure. I've been talking to myself all day.