If I sat and wrote everytime that I thought about sitting and writing, I would have a thousand novellas sitting on the shelf. What in the world are things coming to?
The thought that occurred to me a few minutes ago is this.. where does the panic come from?
Things have to change... I loathe and detest this stupid 2nd bachelor's program I am in.. it's a JOKE.. the only challenge is listening to the copious amounts of bullshit..the verbal diarrhea that comes out of the professor's mouth. There is no science presented.. only philosophy.. As arrogant as this sounds.. I'm in there with a bunch of morons... My biggest excitement last night was sitting in starbuck's and researching neuropeptides and neurotransmitters.. somebody give me something worthwhile to do.. PLEASE!!!!! I'm dyin' ovah heah!
I'm trying to play nicely... I'm trying to do things that seem like a good idea.. focusing on manifesting..although I hate the new agey aspect of all of that... I even went so far as to make up a story board.. a wish board, if you will, of what I'm trying to bring about right now... as soon as I got it done I couldn't help but think "this is the dumbest thing you've done yet, girl... what makes you think this is going to make any difference... and btw.. you spent $4 on the stupid foam board and who knows how much on the printer ink.. what a waste"..Can you tell I'm struggling with the nay-sayer in my head?
I have filed the next round of legal paperwork. It is done... I am scared.. I'm not so scared that I won't "win" but scared of all of the stuff that I need to do in order to accomplish that.. does that make sense? Winning even seems like a stupid word to use.. there's so much at stake here.. soo soo much... and yet, it all seems like a big soap opera.. and I still sit here knitting and wishing that I wasn't.
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