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Oh Women’s Humor, you get me. When all else fails to lift my spirits, I turn to you. You never let me down, and by golly, I love you for that. Just so you know. Not that you’ll read this. Not that I’m some incredibly famous blogger that sooo many people follow passionately…but I could be. Maybe I will be. Who knows.

Anyway, I take comfort in the fact that I am seeing Les Mis next week. On opening night. With my mama–who loves the musical as much as I do. We are going to ball our eyes out and we are going to love it. At least there is that I can count on.

Will I survive my last days as a college undergrad? Will I successfully complete all of the work I have to do? Who knows! I have to do it, I seriously have to do it. It’s as if my anxiety combined with my excitement combined with my fears (mostly my anxiety and my fears, ha), have made me this incredibly useless being. 

I wholeheartedly apologize world, I have faith in myself, I do. It’s somewhere lodged under my grumpy sarcasm directed at my mother, my snarky “joking” comments directed at my father (in my defense, he tends to throw out some mean words in my direction), and my baby talk to my sweet little doggies. My faith, my belief, my confidence in myself is buried deep, deep down. I haven’t reached inside myself to yank it out quite yet but I keep telling myself I will. I pull out bits and pieces here and there. 

“I got this! I am going to rock this assignment’s world. College really isn’t so bad, I don’t know why so many people make a deal about it. Wait, what? It’s almost over? I have to graduate and move on with my life? College is so hard! I’ve worked so hard! I don’t feel like I’ve done everything I should have during my time in college. But I’m already living at home…”

Welcome to my life. I get so melodramatic about it, and yet, it’s pretty damn great. I dance back and forth between loving it and despising it. But really, I struggle between my love for myself and my large list of criticism that I throw upon myself. On one hand, I’m absolutely beautiful, at my best I’m charming, smiling, laughing, and just intelligent, adorable, and well spoken. On the other hand, I’m grumpy, I’m negative, and I really do not give a royal eff what my hair looks like.  I have my down days and lately they have been nearly every day. What’s going on with me?

The daunting real world–that door is nearly ready to open for me. It just clicked for me. The way I am feeling is how I feel when I am in that first room you wait in on The Tower of Terror at DCA. You know what room I’m talking about, riiiight? It’s terrifying to me. Well, it is and it isn’t. I know it’s fake, I know the twilight zone is building up anticipation that really isn’t effective because you’re going to wait in quite a bit of a line until you actually get onto the ride anyway. Yet, it’s scary to think about. Then it happens, the ride attendant leaves and the ride begins, you’re moved up and down slow, then fast, and all the while the epic voice is telling you the story of how that one family got into the elevator and said goodbye to the real world. Or something like that. Anyway before you know it you’re dropping, sudden drops throw your stomach into a party you didn’t want to be invited to. 

This is how it feels to be approaching graduation. At least, that’s how it feels for me. But somehow, it’s worse, and somehow, it’s not so bad. I’ve been so bipolar about it lately. I don’t even understand myself.

Well, I will leave with the best line from Ferris Bueller’s Day Off ever, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you might miss it.”

Great advice for me and good advice for you. It’s a win-win. 

You’re welcome 🙂

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