It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.
I have watched the trailer of “Joy” thirteen times, scoured the Internet for evidence of Mary-Kate Olsen’s wedding (if you haven’t heard, there were bowls of cigarettes), and Googled “Macauly Culkin 2015,” “Jennifer Grey nose,” and “Scorpio personality traits.” I have eaten a slice of pizza from the Spa and chugged two Death Wish Coffees. I have thought about checking myself into the Mental Health unit of the Saratoga Hospital just because.
More importantly, I have felt things. Here is a list of the following things I have felt in the past forty-five minutes while trying to write a paper
not blow my brains out.
- I didn’t even read this book.
- Maybe just one episode.
- Skidmore is a wonderful place with top-notch academics and awesome professors.
- Skidmore is a dark hellhole in upstate New York where I go to class.
- Where is Allison Janney? (The librarian).
- What exactly is “networking?”
- I should not have gone to DA’s last night.
- Jeez, I’m so smart.
- I am so fucking dumb. I am a dumb girl.
- Fuck you, iCal notifications.
- What is Carrie Fisher doing now?
- Plagiarism is like having sex with a classmate: feels right in the moment but afterwards, you’re going to have to deal with the consequences.
- I should have bought that Adderall.
- May the force be with you.
- Is belief inherent to fiction?
- What am I going to do with the rest of my life?
- I have more work than anyone ever in the whole entire world.
- I need to be touched.
- I can’t stand these lights.
- Skills: crying over academics when I tell people I don’t give a shit about academics.
- I could really care less about this paper.
- I care so much about this paper.
- The end of each day is like a small death.
- (Walks to printer) Get out of my way, freshman.
- Can that kid not take his shoes off???
- Some people have real problems.
- Mom, pickup.
- I hate my life.
- I hate academia.
- I hate myself.