Well, here we are. The home stretch. Four more days until I get to see Matt again, and 2.5ish weeks until I have to turn in my application to This American Life that will ultimately decide what the french toast is going to happen to me.
The absolute terror of what is going to happen to me this summer has got my emotional state in the firmest of vice grips.
I want to move. I need to move. There is no way I can just stay in Michigan. I am firmly convinced that its killing me.
I am absolutely discouraged as far as jobs go. I feel like there's nothing I can do to be more qualified. I'm hoping with this internship, i can get the letters of recommendation I will so sorely need for grad school, because if I am going to get in, lord knows its not going to be because of my stellar gpa. I wouldn't mind a second bachelor's but I hear its not really worth it, and that I may as well just try for the master's. But as of late, my rationale has been this: if I go and get the second bachelor's, I can hopefully get a more impressive grade point average, make people love me so much they will be raping one another for the opportunity to write letters for me.
Total hyperbole, but you get the idea.
Moral of the story: not good enough for what I want, too good for what I can do. I refuse to cook or serve food (drinks are okay), mop floors, wipe asses (literally), or let strange people see me without my clothes on (unless I am a burlesque dancer or an artist's model). All I am equipped with is a bachelor's degree, a smart mouth, a head full of metal, an somewhat killer wardrobe and a righteous sense of self-entitlement. Besides, I have a better working vocabulary than most of the working American public anyway.
Maybe I just have to go balls out and not care anymore. If I make it to the interview, I might say fuck. All my most profane facebook statuses and most offensively raucous photographs will be prevalent.
I'm done with that rant for now, I swear.
This is all springing forth because of one lone strand of gray hair I found springing from my scalp this morning. I shall call her Lola, and now that she's here, I'm not sure if I want her to invite some friends over or not.
I'm here for your entertainment.
About Me
- Xlynn
- I live my life by song lyrics, have a chronic/terminal case of smartassitis and and currently taking medication to combat a particularly hearty strain of Don'tgiveafuck syndrome. I do the 22k in april to raise money for research. I appreciate your prayers. I'm also a sarcastic, habitual liar. ...sometimes. You will be my new best friend if you can tell me exactly what the fuck Paul Simon and Julio Were doing down by the schoolyard, the exact location of Carmen Sandiego, and the real words to "Blinded By The Lights" (revved up like a deuce, you know, a roller in the night?). I will date you if you can name 3 Green Day albums that aren't American Idiot. I'm a handful but my friends love me. good luck!
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