It’s a new year!!!! Ugh. I’m hoping this year is waaay better to me than 2018. Twenty eighteen wasn’t it… chief (I just cringed too).
Six days. I have six days until I am supposed to be heading back to college, and I have no way how I’m going to get there financially. *cue the emotional stress tears* I hate asking for money, but I know I have to; it is such a huge challenge for me. For the first eighteen years of my life, I was pretty much in survival mode. I was/am so used to being responsible for myself and my needs. I am such an incredibly poor college student, financially speaking, which is honestly probably why I stress more than necessary and worry about the future. Now, I’m at a point of life where I have people who are willing to help me with whatever I need, but I still don’t go to them because A) I’m not used to it and B) I fear rejection since I’ve always been rejected. It’s just really hard. I’m trying to work on it, but it’s hard for me to work on it when so many people are telling me to work on it as if it’ll happen overnight. People don’t understand the intense mental blockage I have.
I just had a huge revelation. My teacher for Materials & Finishes sent out our syllabus and tentative schedule for class, which consisted of purchasing four books on top of the two books I have to get for another class. As I was reading through the email, I realized something major: the further I get in the program, the more I don’t like my major. All aspects of it being fun are gone; now I just dread going to school.
Besides the usual screwing up my words and being the most awkward, cringey human being alive, I haven’t done anything too significantly embarrassing or awkward that I found worth writing about. Hopefully I didn’t speak (or type?) too soon. Anyway, this is kind of about what I wrote on the 8th. I just watched season 2 episode 4 of grown-ish, and it really hit close to home. Zoey (the main character) is going through the same thing I am, like feeling completely lost about what I want to do and losing the passion I once had for my major, except she had the guts to actually drop the class. I’ve looked at transferring into better interior design problems (because part of me still really loves interior design; honestly, I’m just really lost and confused), but none of my credits will transfer. I’m already in too deep; plus, I can’t financially afford to change majors or transfers schools to start all over. It was already kind of a struggle getting back this semester. Anyway, Refinery29 uploaded an article about the episode, and if you can relate, I’ll have the article linked below; I recommend checking it out.
I spoke too soon. I hate walking around campus and seeing A) someone I don’t talk to anymore and B) teachers. On my way back to my dorm today, I saw both. The first person I saw was someone I haven’t talked to in a year. I was trying so hard to avoid eye contact, but that didn’t work. I ended up giving a half-hearted, closed-lip smile. Not long after, I saw one of my major teachers and wanted to melt into the sidewalk. I don’t know how to talk to teachers outside of class, especially when I see them in passing on the sidewalk. My music was blasting in my ear, and I was trying so hard to fake yawn and avoid eye contact (because my eyes close when I yawn). Well, it’s so cold outside that my mouth couldn’t open wide enough to yawn. We ended up making eye contact, and I smiled with my mouth closed and waved and felt bad afterward. I feel like I was rude because he actually spoke, and I just simply waved. It was so weird, and I just… I can’t with myself sometimes.
This is so random, but I’m holding back on my Instagram content and hate it. I know that is the most First World Problem statement ever written, but it’s true. Last year I learned how to be one hundred percent myself with my YouTube videos, and maybe this year is the year I can be one hundred percent myself with my Instagram account. The only thing, the ONLY thing that’s stopping me is the fact that family members are following me, and they don’t understand my generation. What’s worse is they like to talk about it at gatherings or whenever I see them, and I don’t like that. I’d be perfectly okay if they just liked and moved on instead of constantly commenting and talking about it in real life (or as some people say, IRL).
I can’t believe I did this; let’s start there. The laundry room in my residence hall is on the 4th floor, and I live on the 6th floor. I was walking down the hall to go upstairs to my room, and while I was walking, I was thinking about someone. I guess I was so in my mind that I tried to open the door to someone else’s room. Yep; I just tried to barge into someone else’s room. When the door wouldn’t budge, I realized what I was doing and ran down the hall. Like, I literally turned into the Flash. I am so hoping no one saw or heard me.
Today I learned I don’t know how the postage system works, and boy was it embarrassing. Yesterday, I tried to mail out 9 Mercari orders in priority mail USPS boxes. It was already bad enough taking the boxes last night. I was struggling so much and lowkey hoped a really kind human would see me struggling and offer to help. Well, that didn’t happen. Anyway, I had to go back to the post office today because I mailed everything out in the wrong boxes. Now, I have to go on a manhunt for suitable boxes to mail everything out in. Anyway, carrying all the priority boxes back to my dorm room was what was embarrassing. Two people (at different times) stopped us (my friend and I) and asked us what we were doing when they saw us walking around with our arms full of priority boxes. Explaining my stupidity is what was embarrassing.
I was so hoping to not screw up today on my first tour of the semester, but life said a big “lol.” I was opening the door to let the family I was giving a tour to back into the meeting space, and the door hit my foot. I hardcore tripped, and if the door wasn’t there to keep me steady, I would have face planted.
I am absolutely appalled by what happened to Jussie Smollett. He was not only physically damaged but also emotionally damaged. “Land of the free?” Yeah right. No one is free in a land of racists and homophobes. We need to keep on fighting.
I’m not going to go into too much detail about it, but if you don’t know what happened, here are some articles you can read. Actually, here are some articles you should read:
It’s 10:39am, and I’m having a full-blown internal panic attack. (Also, yes, I’m technically in class, but my teacher isn’t here yet; I have a moment to write this). I’m not ashamed of this blog; I just always get a little weird when I share it with other people. I never know how people react, and one thing I hate (and sometimes fear, especially when sharing this beautiful world I’ve created) is judgment and public humiliation. I want to share this with everyone I know, but I stop myself because I never know what reaction I’ll get. Well, I just told two people in my major (which turned into about five) about my blog, and the internal panic attack is intense right now. I talk to them all the time, but it almost feels like I’m sharing an unknown part of myself with them. I feel weird, but weird is beautiful.