Finding Hope: My Story

So...Finals suck.  like, a lot. I really do not do well under pressure.  Well, the pressure to get good grades and to do all that I should to get in to grad school.  College and I are not besties lately.  Rather, we are mortal anenemies.  Yup, spelllling strikes again. I am having a break down a day it seems.  And today I seriously was at my wits end. And I realized that even if I flunk my way out of college, I have ONE marketable skill, you know, other than entertaining those of you who read this loveliness that I spew all over the internet. I can be a secretary for the rest of my life. I'll just go out and get me a rocking wardrobe, apply all over the place (maybe even in exotic places like...California...or...Wisconsin...what, that's not exotic to you?  I've never been there.  Sounds exotic to me.)  And then I'll get a job because I have great references for my secretarial skills. There you go, back up life plan achieved. ...

So here I am, sitting on my bed, innocently taking my final (thank you take-home, open-note, open-book!), when suddenly my body decides to FREAK out.  I have never heard such weird noises coming from my innards.  Seriously.  This inner battle has been going on for a while, me vs. my tummy.  And today it thinks it is winning, what with it's awkward noises and bloating (wait, did I just admit to the internet that I am bloated.  again, awkward) and the like.  However, what my stomach fails to realize is that every time it makes one of these weird noises, I laugh.  Out loud.  I even named my stomach once.  Goob Jr.  Since my gall bladder was named Goob, and he was removed almost a year ago.  So, Goob Jr, I thank you for this entertainment.

This week has been...hard. So, what did I do to overcome?  I had free balloon day! Now, this may not make any sense to you, so, naturally, I will elaborate.  The office on campus for which I work had a student awards celebration today.  And we decked out the Nelke Theatre with balloons. However, once said celebration was done and all the students had dispersed, we had 36 balloons to...dispose of. I didn't know what to do...how do you get rid of 36 balloons in a humane (or balloon-ane) way?  So, I did what any silly person would do.  I had a free balloon day. Which meant that my dear friend Celeste and I took all of these balloons and gave them away, one at a time, to people in Brigham Square.  I am still amazed at how much these people loved our free balloon day.  I just liked skipping around handing out free stuff.  Maybe that can be my future job...free baloon hander outer and ultimate joy spreader.  I think that would fit nicely ...

Have you ever had one of those days where as soon as you wake up you KNOW that things are not going to turn out the way that you planned?  Welcome to my day today.  The whole day was...not what I had expected.  My dear friend who was fighting cancer passed away today.  Did I want that?  No.  I loved my dear friend Celeste.  She is the reason I even had a semblance of a social life through middle school and high school--she was willing to take a chance and invite a weirdo like me over to her house to play night games.  (I know, I wouldn't let me come to your house either, but sometimes people are innocent and decide to take a chance.) And now she is gone.  I've never lost a friend before.  The only people I have ever known who have died were...advanced in age. (see, I do have some tact)  Even when there have been people my age who have died, I did not know them well enough to be affected by it.  But now, I am beginning to reali...

Oh, how there are oh soooo many things that are frustrating me right now.  Life, life and more life. And I want to be angry.  I want to yell at the world "Hey, you.  Yeah you.  Go stick your finger in an electrical socket.  Go punch yourself in the kidney.  Go bite a wall while simultaneously kicking a chair." But alas, even though I rant and rave about these things, I cannot bring myself to do it. I can't tell people that I am frustrated with them because I don't want to hurt them.  I can't talk about how irritating I find things because it would hurt someone's feelings.  I can't talk about how angry I am at this illness because that would be like saying I am angry with God.  And I am really not in the mood to get struck down this week. Aaaand so, I control my anger.  How?  I goof off.  I tell silly jokes.  I say things like "go punch yourself in the kidney" so that a good friend and I can laugh about it all day l...