I don’t know why I feel the way I do right now. Wait. That’s a lie. I know why I feel  the way I do, I just don’t know how I feel about what I feel, and I don’t want to feel the way I feel anymore.

Got that?

Yeah, let me explain. I’m in a foul mood. Not angry, but rather depressed. For three years, I’ve taken teaching and English courses, and I have always expected to be an English teacher. But after three years, I don’t want to be a teacher. After a mishap in one of my English-teaching crossover classes this week, I called my mom, bawling and saying I didn’t want to do education. I love English, I love it to death. I just know that having a bachelor’s degree in English will probably lead to an early death – one that’s caused by living in cardboard boxes and scrounging for food money on the cold streets.

I know it shouldn’t matter. They always say you should do what you want to do, but then they say that the only way to be happy is to have a steady income. I want to have a way where I can have both.

I don’t know what I’m good at, I don’t know what I want to do. Some days, I just want to lay down and die. Today is one of those days. I work tomorrow. I have a paper to write over William S. Burroughs this weekend, a book to read (if it ever shows up), stupid test questions to revise that I know will never be good enough, a multigenre paper that isn’t good enough, and write a scene that I hope will be good enough. Well, I don’t want to do any of it.

I am so depressed, I don’t think I’ve shaved my legs in a week. And that’s really gross. I need to change that tomorrow.

There are plenty of other things I want to do. I finally started on my mittens last night. They’re the “Bella” mittens, but I vehemently hate Twilight. Though I think when they’re done, they’ll be beautiful and match my newest scarf perfectly. I’d really rather knit. I’m afraid I might have to give Alex my knitting bag for the night so I’ll do some work.

I’m sad that the Olympics are almost over. I love curling. I want to learn how to curl, and then become a professional curler.

I want to read The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, because even though it is for my young adult literature class, I still love that all the books in there are books I want to read, not books I just have to read for class. I love all the feminist theories that could go with that book, and it’s weird, too, because I see a lot of myself in Frankie.

Most of all, I just want to do what I want and be happy. I swear, not all of my life is a bore and a shame. There is a lot of good in it, I’m just going through a sucky time. On a happy note, I can’t wait to do all the other things I have planned for this weekend. Alex and I are celebrating our anniversary and doing some fun things, since I’m not sick like I was last weekend and we can. I’m also completely stoked for Spring Break – I just have to survive a week. A group of us are going to South Carolina, and I definitely need some relax time away from the great frigid state of Indiana.

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