Today was the last day for final exams at my college.

I was taking an exam of physical anthropology, so basically one about apes and early hominids and other things I don’t understand or comprehend.


I was slightly preoccupied because:

  • I had taken a Bio exam a few days prior (on topics I know nothing about) and was 100% positive I’d failed it. Well, given that I’d already had a F in the class…it wasn’t looking too hot.
  • I had taken a theatre exam a few days prior (once again, on topics I know nothing about! AND HERE’S THE THING. It was about musical theatre, a topic I am fairly familiar with. I quite like musical theatre). I had assumed I would do well, because, c’mon, it’s a theatre exam. But no. It was horrible. I bombed it worse than Hiroshima (yes, horrible joke, I’m aware)
  • I had to turn in a paper about political science (another topic I know nothing about…sensing a trend?) that made me sound like a babbling infant. It made close to no sense whatsoever, was repetitive, and chock-full of bullshit. Great.
  • I had not even remotely prepared myself for this final until two days prior and I couldn’t even entirely wrap my mind around studying.
So, I took the exam.  I bombed that even harder than the theatre exam. It was horrendous.
  • After promptly finishing my exam and after waiting patiently for all the other students to finish their exams, I walked myself back into class to discuss my grade with my professor. We came to the conclusion that were I to get ZERO points on the exam, I would still somehow walk away with a C in the class. If I only got HALF the questions right, I could walk away with a B. Well that surely made my day.
  • After this, I decided to check my grades on our school’s online system. I have a B in Biology. The class I was certain I’d failed. I somehow walked away with a B. You could’ve shot me in the foot, I would have not cared whatsoever.
  • Finals were over. I was done with classes. I had nothing more to stress about. I could’ve gone to work, gone home, and gone to sleep. Simple as that. Nothing to stress out or have anxiety about anymore. I was entirely, completely done.
Things got worse. Not immediately. But they did.
  • I remembered the extra large pile of clothing I have in my room that demands I wash it.
  • I remembered the extra large mess of things I have in my room. (For the record, my life and my room are synonymous in that they are both complete and utter messes).
Work was decent.
It wasn’t until we began to get exceptionally busy (well, for me, anyway), that I started to stress myself out. I get anxiety when I feel as though people are criticizing me, or when people are watching me, or when I feel as though I am of little use…all of these things are how I felt early on into our rush. I got over that though, because…I don’t know. I just did. I kind of love where I work. No, I do love where I work. It’s kind of eerie to say, but everyone is kind of like a family. Everyone makes fun of everyone and no one gets upset by it. It’s just…what they do. I love my job.
Then things got even worse.
My cousin and her…I’m not sure I know what you would call them…her “gang of boys” (?) came in…for nothing. For nothing at all but to talk to me, say hello, and stare at me whilst I pretended they did not exist.
A lot has gone on between she and I, and while I don’t want to act as though she and I are not on amicable terms…we are, but she’s not someone I want in my life anymore. I’ve always felt that if I don’t feel as though I am special to you, I don’t want to be in your life any more than I would want you in mine. She has always been one of those people who uses others (myself included) to get exactly what she wants.
I have told her things about myself and my family that I never meant to. I thought we were better and closer than I realize we actually were. I have told her some very personal thoughts, some fears, some dreams. They weren’t bad things, but they were things I only share with those really close to me. She and I were never close, but I guess I believed it would make us closer. I was wrong. Even more so, I don’t think she honestly gave a damn what I told her. Life, to her, was never about developing strong relationships or taking things seriously…it was always about having fun and being “popular”. I guess it is hard for me to comprehend as I’ve never been one of those people to be so concerned with popularity.
I guess seeing her just made me realize how horrible it is to trust as easily as I do. What is even worse is that she’s family (not blood-related, but regardless…).
After seeing her, I got incredibly upset.
Irritated, impatient, angry, even more tired than I already was, drained…everything.
I feel bad because everyone I was working with kept asking me if something was wrong and, to be honest, I hate when people say “nothing” when it is clearly something, but I didn’t exactly feel like going into a big sob story about my family. But I stopped feeling like my self. I still don’t feel entirely proper. I’m tired and I’m drained. I don’t know what I want.
I just want today and the rest of this week to be over.

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