with the end of the semester and all the application deadlines, i have whipped myself up into a mental frenzy. the combination of caffeine and strict deadlines has kicked my brain into a gear i didn't know it had
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If I do not get in, I will drink a bottle of vodka (or even 2 bottles), then I will cry for two weeks saying that I am worthless nullity. Then I will go to Siberia for 3 months to clear my mind. And then I will try to apply again. If I fail for the second time, I will marry a rich guy and have a dozen of kids.
If I get into my top choice, I'm moving up there early and taking Estonian for the summer, which is something I've wanted to do since I was like 14. If I have to go somewhere else, I will sulk and pick the best fit for me with respect to funding.
Other plans include becoming a madame, owning a sustainable bakery, moving to all the cities I'll have to just hope I get a job in if I ever receive my PhD, moving to one of the states nobody likes and having a farm with a couple goats, lots of chickens, and a giant garden...
I have two what if's. I'll either apply for the digital learning internship at MoMa or get two jobs back home and start taking German language courses. Then once I felt like I could handle the application process again, I would probably apply for PhDs instead of MAs. The only reason I didn't this time around is because my German isn't good enough.
Nothing crazy, though. I guess I could go live with my grandparents and work at Disney world.
Well, after a few weeks of alcoholism, I believe I will try for World Socialist Revolution.
Realistically, I will probably do my best to find work as a "shovelbum" until I'm no longer physically capable. Then maybe I'll get a teaching certificate or go to mortuary school or something.
That said, I'm already kind of "depressed in advance." Oh anxiety.
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Other plans include becoming a madame, owning a sustainable bakery, moving to all the cities I'll have to just hope I get a job in if I ever receive my PhD, moving to one of the states nobody likes and having a farm with a couple goats, lots of chickens, and a giant garden...
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Baking is my day job, and I would love it, if it included reading more books, all the time.
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Nothing crazy, though. I guess I could go live with my grandparents and work at Disney world.
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Realistically, I will probably do my best to find work as a "shovelbum" until I'm no longer physically capable. Then maybe I'll get a teaching certificate or go to mortuary school or something.
That said, I'm already kind of "depressed in advance." Oh anxiety.
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