alright?
no.
shit has hit the fan in two unrelated ways, but the stress is the same, as is the person whom to blame.
this is no pity party, i did this, i was the one in charge, in control of letting shit get out of hand.
what it comes down to is no money.
even worse, red numbers...i'd never seen them before.
oh, and i totally fucked up school this semester.
i'd be worried in a different, more permanent way if i'd actually showed up, tried and failed,
but the truth is that i was unmotivated, highly absent and fairly apathetic about the whole thing.
i skipped a lot of class for no good reason. being that three of them were re-takes anyway, i was pretty confident that i could just breeze right through; i already had all the notes and had taken the tests a year before...should be easy, right?
wrong.
...but only if you don't show up.
i dropped Developmental Psyche right off the bat once i realized that i wasn't interested enough to show up and could still withdraw without consequence. i failed that class last fall with a 96%--one of the requirements was to obtain two research points, which entailed signing up for a couple surveys or doing the depression screening; that kind of thing. i'd forgotten about it until it was too late and was kind of pissed off about my F.
Lifetime Fitness is a half-semester class that started in october. forgot all about it, missed the first week. a week later, when it started getting really cold, i decided that i was no longer interested in walking to the farthest building at 8am. it was only worth one credit and i can take that some other time...fuggit.
History of the English Language is a real bitch. if i would have shown up to class, i would have passed it, but honestly, it is one of the most difficult classes i've ever taken--it's a history and foreign language class in one(Old and Middle English are foreign languages for modern English speakers, for real). although i didn't show up to class that much, i actually tried at the end--i wrote the big paper on the biography of the word 'pencil,' and i took all the tests. and failed...i could never tell what that guy was going to put on the tests.
Instructional Technology for the Classroom...goddam, that class was sooo easy and actually pretty fun. so seemingly easy, in fact, that i felt like i could blow it off, and i did. next thing i knew, i was a couple projects behind with the intention of making them up. next thing i knew it was a few hours ago, the final was in 14 hours, and there was no way i could do all the work by then and realistically still hope to pass. staying up all night, drinking coffee, ending up a disgusting zombie version of myself wouldn't solve this one, and since i'd already done that twice this week, i decided that there's really no need to put myself through that torture anymore this year.
when i quit my job, i still had some financial aid money. i thought it would be enough to let me squeak by until i receive the other half of my student loan in january.
wrong.
apparently it wasn't enough to last one month.
it must have been around the time that i realized the hole i'd dug for myself at school and started working diligently to catch up when i missed a couple credit card payments, doubling the minimums. i have four cards, two are now shut off from the late payments.
fuck.
checked my bank statements and saw red numbers for the first time in my life.
fuck.
called mom for some bail money and she reluctantly agreed to send a little.
thankfully, my grandpa saved my ass in the form of two matured savings bonds.
they put me 30 bucks into the black. i didn't make it to the bank today, so i hadn't deposited the Bank of Mom check when my life insurance did their automatic monthly withdrawal and put me right back into the red.
fuck.
i'll deposit the check tomorrow, but i can do one of two things with the money--pay my rent or pay the cards.
the plan is that i'll call my landlord and just tell them that rent will be late...the chance of them being more human than credit card companies is pretty high...i've made 28 payments on time, i think they can take 1 late.
luckily i'll be starting my new job soon. through providence, i guess, the one chef in town found me sitting next to him at the bar one day, we started talking, and now he wants me in his kitchen.
so i've been walking around wondering when i became such a fuckup, feeling like a huge loser, worried that this was the end, and the whole time i've been here has now officially become a huge waste of time and money. defeated and ashamed, i noticed that i've even been walking slower.
the thing that i couldn't get myself to believe until earlier tonight is that this isn't the end of the road.
what the hell, man, so ya fail a few classes...who are you trying to impress anyway?
it's not like i'm going to jail or will end up homeless because of this, so why the hell have i been stressing out over this so much? a month from now, even the remnants of this mess will have been washed away.
but yeah, it sucks.
no.
shit has hit the fan in two unrelated ways, but the stress is the same, as is the person whom to blame.
this is no pity party, i did this, i was the one in charge, in control of letting shit get out of hand.
what it comes down to is no money.
even worse, red numbers...i'd never seen them before.
oh, and i totally fucked up school this semester.
i'd be worried in a different, more permanent way if i'd actually showed up, tried and failed,
but the truth is that i was unmotivated, highly absent and fairly apathetic about the whole thing.
i skipped a lot of class for no good reason. being that three of them were re-takes anyway, i was pretty confident that i could just breeze right through; i already had all the notes and had taken the tests a year before...should be easy, right?
wrong.
...but only if you don't show up.
i dropped Developmental Psyche right off the bat once i realized that i wasn't interested enough to show up and could still withdraw without consequence. i failed that class last fall with a 96%--one of the requirements was to obtain two research points, which entailed signing up for a couple surveys or doing the depression screening; that kind of thing. i'd forgotten about it until it was too late and was kind of pissed off about my F.
Lifetime Fitness is a half-semester class that started in october. forgot all about it, missed the first week. a week later, when it started getting really cold, i decided that i was no longer interested in walking to the farthest building at 8am. it was only worth one credit and i can take that some other time...fuggit.
History of the English Language is a real bitch. if i would have shown up to class, i would have passed it, but honestly, it is one of the most difficult classes i've ever taken--it's a history and foreign language class in one(Old and Middle English are foreign languages for modern English speakers, for real). although i didn't show up to class that much, i actually tried at the end--i wrote the big paper on the biography of the word 'pencil,' and i took all the tests. and failed...i could never tell what that guy was going to put on the tests.
Instructional Technology for the Classroom...goddam, that class was sooo easy and actually pretty fun. so seemingly easy, in fact, that i felt like i could blow it off, and i did. next thing i knew, i was a couple projects behind with the intention of making them up. next thing i knew it was a few hours ago, the final was in 14 hours, and there was no way i could do all the work by then and realistically still hope to pass. staying up all night, drinking coffee, ending up a disgusting zombie version of myself wouldn't solve this one, and since i'd already done that twice this week, i decided that there's really no need to put myself through that torture anymore this year.
when i quit my job, i still had some financial aid money. i thought it would be enough to let me squeak by until i receive the other half of my student loan in january.
wrong.
apparently it wasn't enough to last one month.
it must have been around the time that i realized the hole i'd dug for myself at school and started working diligently to catch up when i missed a couple credit card payments, doubling the minimums. i have four cards, two are now shut off from the late payments.
fuck.
checked my bank statements and saw red numbers for the first time in my life.
fuck.
called mom for some bail money and she reluctantly agreed to send a little.
thankfully, my grandpa saved my ass in the form of two matured savings bonds.
they put me 30 bucks into the black. i didn't make it to the bank today, so i hadn't deposited the Bank of Mom check when my life insurance did their automatic monthly withdrawal and put me right back into the red.
fuck.
i'll deposit the check tomorrow, but i can do one of two things with the money--pay my rent or pay the cards.
the plan is that i'll call my landlord and just tell them that rent will be late...the chance of them being more human than credit card companies is pretty high...i've made 28 payments on time, i think they can take 1 late.
luckily i'll be starting my new job soon. through providence, i guess, the one chef in town found me sitting next to him at the bar one day, we started talking, and now he wants me in his kitchen.
so i've been walking around wondering when i became such a fuckup, feeling like a huge loser, worried that this was the end, and the whole time i've been here has now officially become a huge waste of time and money. defeated and ashamed, i noticed that i've even been walking slower.
the thing that i couldn't get myself to believe until earlier tonight is that this isn't the end of the road.
what the hell, man, so ya fail a few classes...who are you trying to impress anyway?
it's not like i'm going to jail or will end up homeless because of this, so why the hell have i been stressing out over this so much? a month from now, even the remnants of this mess will have been washed away.
but yeah, it sucks.