eveningrelics replied to your post: All right. Between my dad’s ridiculous joke, my…
I’m like your Navi! :D
You really are.
Especially when you get all
Between my dad’s ridiculous joke, my roommate calming me down, and Relic being, as always, the constant voice of encouragement and sense in my ear, I think I’m in a position where I can do this shit.
My father doesn’t always make tasteless jokes, but when he does, he manages to make them at just the right time that I find them hilarious.
i dont even actually care anymore
whats the point
the fact that i got so close to completing a fucking english degree and then gave up basically just proves that i was useless from the start
my parents wasted their money
i put myself almost 30k in debt for no reason
in light of that, am i even actually worth anything to the world
i mean, I think im worth keeping alive, but in the grand scheme of things, i think this just proves im pretty much useless
and just sent the professor an email asking if i would still pass the class if i didnt turn in the final paper
probably wont see it until monday
been nice knowing you all
i think my paper is just going to be however many pages of bullshit i can muster followed by an apology to the prof and me just going on about how terrified i am right now
i just need to figure out what the bullshit will be about
Speaking of finishing out with C’s, that’s the grade I got in History of the English Language. Which was the class I was most afraid of failing. And I passed it.
Barely. But I passed it.
But seriously you guys I’m actually contemplating just not turning this paper in because I can’t fucking do it.
I think, if I did, I’d probably finish out with a C in the course. Maybe. Which would be passing.
I don’t know.
I’m tired and confused and just done.
>two hours of work
>four lines of notes
THIS PAPER IS GOING FUCKING GREAT YOU GUYS
So remember how in that final reflection, I mentioned how being an English major has taught me how to use the internet for shit that was too difficult or that I couldn’t be arsed to read?
I don’t think I’ve ever depended on the work of others quite as heavily as I am now.
Because fuck Joyce. Fuck Ulysses.