Hey, I have a fun idea. Let’s review all of the ailments I’ve contracted due to stress over finals/end of the school year. It’ll be great, c’mon.

Starting off with a bang, who could forget when I stressed so hard over my Trig final sophomore year of high school that a blood vessel in my eye popped while I was studying and the white part of my left eye turned red, rendering me to look like a demon.

Or how about junior year when I was so overwhelmed with APUSH studying that I somehow popped (really into popping things) some sort of necessary auditory part in my ear that left me completely deaf in my left ear for over a month. Every review session for the test consisted of me screaming “WAIT WHAT,” so that was also a gem.

Lest we not forget senior year when I gave myself a series of bladder infections which lasted from the month of April to the end of June. 

Now as I type this to you with my left eye watering profusely, presumably developing a stye, I will say unto you that I wish you a happy round of finals, free of stress-induced illnesses.

Can someone explain to me why in the middle of our professional presentation in my Journalism class, a member from my group arbitrarily says, and I quote:

“I mean, YOLO, am I right?”

Literally had no relevance to the presentation at all. 

My TA was like “wut.”

I hate group projects.　

My Spanish teacher made the entire guide telling us what was going to be on the final in Spanish, leaving me clueless as to what 87% of the test is going to consist of/making me panic upon the realization of how much I need to study for it…

well played, senor, well played.

I think that before one enters college, they should be required to pass an exam entitled “The Comma Test”

This test will determine whether you know how to properly use commas.

This test will determine whether you can decipher that a conjunction followed by an independent thought needs a motherfucking comma because it is a motherfucking compound sentence.

This test will keep me from yelling obscenities while I edit people’s papers. 

Why is this not a thing yet?

*random woman walks into building and up to front desk*

Her: So you guys offer naked yoga here?

Me: Um…no….

Her: I saw this flyer outside saying “Yoga in Buck”

Me: Yeah, this is Buckingham Hall. We offer regular yoga. For the students. Who live here.

Her: In the Buck?

Me: Yeah Buck because Buckingham.

Her: So no naked yoga?

Me: No naked yoga.

Her: I see. 

College really desensitizes a person to vomit.

What once was my biggest fear is now a terrifying reality I am forced to view on a day-to-day basis. 

If my kitty cat Mam were here right now, oh man oh man, I would snuggle her to pieces and turn off the music I’m listening to in exchange to hear her purring and I’d give her a bowl of cream to lap up because I know it’s her favorite and my mom won’t let her have it at home and it would get all stuck up in her whiskers and give her a little milk moustache. Then I’d dress us in matching sun dresses and give her some Ray Mam’s so her eyes wouldn’t get all squinty and achy from the sun, and we would hit the town. 

I miss that broad. 

Two more months, and she is mine mine mine for the summer.

• trying not to throw up
• being awake for months at a time
• drinking coffee
• falling asleep everywhere but my bed
• ordering food at 2am
• blogging about how I have to stop blogging

Skipping Spanish class to go take a nap before my Geography midterm that I am not prepared for whatsoever.

Good decisions are made by me.

My boss said she had a Christmas present for me, and she came in with A BAG FULL OF FOOD. AND NOT JUST STUPID STUFF. LIKE, REALLY, REALLY EXCELLENT FOOD CHOICES. 

I almost cried. 

- An actual box of Kraft Macaroni and Cheese. Not the tiny Easy Mac packets, A WHOLE BOX

- A WHOLE BOX OF HOT CHOCOLATE PACKETS. SWISS MISS KIND. SWISS MISS KIND.

- A variety of chips. Sun chips, Lays, Pringles :’)

- Goldfish

- apple sauce

- Chewy bars

- POPCORN!!!

- SO MANY KINDS OF CANDY I CANT EVEN

- Ramen

- 5 dollar Starbucks gift card

Basically, I am the happiest.

I’m packing to go home tomorrow, and with each item of clothing I place in my suitcase, I get a little sadder to leave this place.