It's cool

that I'm leaving in a week and my room is a mess and I still need to buy a lot of things and try and use up the rest of my food and pack and start taking anti-malaria pills and finish up any last minute projects in the adlab and at work and try and stop thinking about how

I'm really scared that I'm going to have a panic attack when I see all the bugs or that I'll get attacked by gangs or get a tapeworm or fail at all my projects or not come back speaking better Spanish and I don't have time to

work out before I leave and I'm going to get fat eating pupusas and probably won't even have room for my running shoes in my suitcase (not like I'd use them anyway) but

somehow my enduring optimism better kick in soon (i hope) and it will be fine and it will be great because it always is, and I actually am really excited and really grateful

but also a little terrified.

Here's to hoping and praying and wishing that 7 weeks from now I'll be back and healthy and missing El Salvador.

it's not okay.

I used to think I needed to marry a guy who had really high expectations for me because there is something inside me that is stubborn enough to never say "I can't."

Sometimes I thrive in those kinds of circumstances.
But recently, I've realized that, while high expectations help us grow, unrealistic expectations make us give up.

But there comes a point when lines are crossed and the expectations you hold for other people are more than anyone can live up to.
And when you mock them because they fail or because their priorities aren't the same as yours, because they are involved in more than just your life's work,

that's when it's too much.

When I'm getting fired up and all I want to say is:

You just DON'T treat people like that. Just because you are in a position of authority does not give you the right to act like a child.
To ignore people's efforts.
To interrupt them.

If you expect people to listen to you or trust you or ever want to be around you, you have to give them the respect their efforts as well as their successes.

I just have two more words for you: positive reinforcement

There is (no) beauty in the breakdown

Maybe I'm just an idiot.

Or maybe the Periodicals Section of the library is really as confusing as it seems.

I swear I looked in the right section (AP 63 . C6697 Bry7QN E=mc{squared}).

Three times.

Dewey would not be proud.

Not at all.

And of course I would be doing this at 10:30 at night, when there are no kind attendants to help me find what I'm looking for.

Not their fault. Mine for procrastinating everything in life.

Goodbye my darling bed. It looks like we wont' be seeing each other for about 4 days.

I'veneverwantedtoswearsobadly

I'm an idiot when it comes to remember passwords.
I'm also completely irresponsible with my finances.

It really sucks when the two combine.

The End.

I hate job hunting. The end.

So...I've never been that great with computers. I have a love-hate relationship with them. Mostly hate.

I figured it was just my natural tendency to be old-fashioned...(or lazy?)

I mean, I can type like nobody's business...78wpm thank you very much. And am very capable of multi-tasking (i.e. homework plus blog surfing)

But do I have a "working knowledge" (whatever that means) of Excel?
Publisher? (more important question: do I even know what publisher is/does?)
HTML?
WP9? (????)

nope.

Therefore I am obsolete and unqualified for any jobs that don't involve the dreaded cafeteria of the freshman...those days are over.

Oh except one:
I could be a cake froster.
Yep, I can do that.
I think.
oh wait. it's from midnight to THREE in the morning!*


*I think I'll pass on the walking-home-late-at-night-and-getting-attacked part. If only I had a nice gentleman to walk me home...ha...ha...
(And this just turned into a rant about boys..wow. It's official: I blame all my problems in life on men. It's just easier that way.)

Maybe I'm picky.
Not! I'm not picky!
I wanted to be a waitress! but no one will hire me because I'm not 21 yet! (stupid utah)

GAHHHHH.....

Stomache Pains

I woke up this morning feeling like a wrung-out washcloth; feeling like no matter what I do it's never good enough.

I'm frustrated. I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm confused. I'm not sure what I'm feeling exactly. I'm a wrung-out washcloth.

Κύριε ἐλέησον! Θάλασσα καὶ πῦρ καὶ γυνή, κακὰ τρία. Μέτρον ἄριστον. Τί κοινότατον; Ἐλπίς. Καὶ γὰρ οἳς ἄλλο μηδέν, αὔτη παρέστη.

Ναι... αυτά...

hmph!

WHHHHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYYYY am I so freaking bad at decision making?!!!

And so very good at rushing into/not thinking/being reckless???????

NO BUENO.



edit: I'll probably wake up tomorrow and decide I'm okay with what I decided, so you may ignore this freak out.