I’m sitting here fully dressed, chugging a large mug of black coffee. My stomach is in knots because my paper is due Tuesday at noon.I’m still gathering sources and the moment I think “EUREKA! I have found my angle!” the moment passes and I’m back to feeling dumb.
Is all of this stress worth it? I better be sitting in my apartment in New York with an internship and a least a minimum paying job that will let me write at night at the end of this. The dream, really. Or grad school, but, at this very moment, the idea of working my ass off on paper just for a more precious piece of paper makes me want to explode into a million tiny pieces of distressed glass. I can do this. I can do this.
Lately, in regards to writing, I’m having performance issues.
Send me good vibes wherever you are in the world, please.
Coffee’s almost done. Better put on my wool coat and face that downpour of rain outside. To the library.