School

I hate it.

I don't understand why I have to bust my ass to take 21 units a semester just to graduate on time, when I'm going to die by the time I'm 25. I mean, who cares? I'm taking out loans and working overtime and barely scraping by on rent and car payments and still going to class more than anyone else I know and for what?

For nothing.

There are days I want to graduate on time so I can go to nursing school and maybe get a few good years in of helping other people. And then there are days like today, when I'm bitter and resentful and I just want to party because I am twenty and everyone else gets to go out and party and I have to sit in the corner and watch them and be ostracized because I can't drink anymore. People think something is wrong with me. I know tons of people who have taken a fifth year to finish their degree, and their reasons aren't that they are living with severe psychiatric problems, or that they're in and out of the hospital on a regular basis, or that their organs are failing. Their reasons are generally more along the lines of "Man, college is so fun, why would I ever want to graduate?"

And their parents put up with that and pay for that but I can't do that because my mother can't even pay her own rent, let alone mine, or my tuition, or my medical bills (don't get me started).

Ugh. I'll cut it off here.

Things I'm grateful for today: not being homeless. Yet.