Today can literally go jump off a cliff, I don't even care

I do not understand how it can possibly take literally 30 minutes for a printer to print off one copy of a 8 page paper. Somehow my printer has defied all odds and now I am missing a class and a quiz that I can't afford to miss. I feel like crying and punching a wall until it's nothing more than dust all at the same time. I woke up early this morning in order to ensure that I left myself enough time to come to my parents' house and print my paper off, and yet still somehow everything goes wrong. I already hate this day, and this week isn't looking much more promising. Hopefully at least I will get my paper printed in time to turn it in.

seriously guys....seriously

I am accustomed to people taking me seriously. I am intelligent. I'm not a genius or anything, but I know that I'm a smart person and for pretty much my entire life, my grades reflected such and my teachers, etc, took me seriously. Suddenly that has stopped. I got an email from someone I deeply respect today and it was obvious that they didn't think I could handle a certain class. I cannot explain how devastating that was to me. He doesn't take me seriously, and it's my own fault. I have done this. I have completely thrown away my grades, and for what? Nothing important that's for sure. Well it is not going to continue. I guess that I thought people should just know who and what I am by knowing me instead of looking at my grades, and in a way I still strongly hold to that belief. However, I am not that person who gives less than everything to school. I'm the girl that studies her heart and soul out because she loves to learn and strives to be great at what she does. Somewhere along the road I cynically threw that girl aside. Now I only hope she'll forgive my stupidity and help me prove to everyone that they are sorely mistaken about exactly what I am made of.

clean up on aisle 3

STRESS!!!!!!!!

Sometimes I feel like a total adult being BOSS about handling her life.

Other times I feel like a 5 year old lost in Sams crying for her mommy and wishing she had at least gotten lost in the candy aisle.

I do not do well without alone time. seriously. I need periods of time when literally not one soul talks to me. I need a day where I don't shower and just wear my pjs ALL DAY LONG. I need those things in my life. People exhaust me. I love people. I really do. I swear. I just need to recharge. Being socially acceptable tires me out.

I am one of those people who could sit in a room with someone for hours never talking to them and there really, really be nothing wrong. Sometimes I just don't want to talk. At all.

Why couldn't I be lost in the candy aisle? I'm lost in the aisle with all the bagged dried beans. I hate beans.

will I get to see a celebrity?

I can't believe I'm actually going to California for Christmas. I have never gone anywhere for break before. Seriously. Ever. I feel like this is going to be a great adventure.

turn the page

I want to write a poem. I'm in a poem writing mood, but I'm terrified of what will come out if I give in. Words are powerful and evocative, and if I allow them to manifest what I'm feeling....I don't know. I'm scared. This is usually the point that I quickly grab a book and pour myself into it's pages, allowing my own creative energies and thoughts merge and fuse with the author and the words they have poured out in the pages of my book. Writing is not a passive process. When I write I often find myself exhausted afterwards, like part of the essence of my life has actually been drained away and placed within the words that now either inhabit a computer screen or a shabby notebook that gets shoved back into the dark recesses of my desk drawer. My heart pounds when I'm truly writing. I find that I often lean closer and closer to the computer screen, as if I will be sucked into it's abyss, never to return. I'm scared of that raw power. I feel it pulling me from the places I know and I shrink back from it. Reading another's soul is beautiful to me, and in a way it's a cop-out. I do it so often, I think, because I'm too afraid to do it myself. I'm afraid of how vulnerable real writing makes me. Poems are scary business. To me they seem like snapshots of a person's soul, and frankly, I don't want you to see into my soul thank you very much. You might laugh. You may look in and see something you think is horrible and run away, or even worse, you may rifle through the pages upon pages of my soul, painfully tearing apart the pages that have been stuck together for years and then decide that you don't like this book after all, and put it is away to pick another shinier, more beautiful book. I guess technically this is showing you a glimpse into the pages of my soul. Maybe I'll delete this post as soon as I finish typing, but part of me hopes not for books are not meant to be hidden on the bottom of bookcases. Books aren't meant to gather dust and cobwebs and the smell of disuse. They are meant to be marveled in. They are designed to please and bring light to the dark. They are fated to be loved.

I need my fix

I feel like if I don't buy a new book I will die. Literally shrivel up and pass into non-existence.

Hi, my name is Sara, and I'm addicted to books.

I'm a little teapot

I love tea. It's a fact. Nothing makes me feel more content during the colder seasons than a huge mug of tea. Ironically, my favorite tea mug says 'Mug of Coffee' in big letter on the side. However, I think my tea appreciates the irony. Fall makes me feel nostalgic, romantic, and settled. I love how the air smells, and the way the leaves live their last moments in a brilliant farewell of color. I find myself wishing only to have an endless supply of tea, plenty of agave nectar for sweetness, some creamer for deliciousness, a book to take my imagination to far off lands, fuzzy socks, baggy clothes, and a big chair in which to snuggle in. Fall is my favorite season, and tea is its sweet drink that brings it all home.

As content as this season makes me feel, it also makes me feel restless in a way. The warmth of indoors, blankets, and mugs of steamy tea make me long for a deeper contentment, the kind that comes from knowing. I'm not one of those people that wishes to have every moment of their life planned out from beginning to end, the mystery of life is too exciting and enticing to me. However, I do wish I at least knew which direction I was heading. I'm glad to be nearing the end of my undergrad career, but I have no idea what will follow it. I'm not even sure what direction I wish to take. Some days I know that I will be getting my masters in some area of social history and decay amongst old books that smell slightly of mold and leather. Other times I imagine myself becoming a librarian and attempting to instill the passionate love for books that grips my heart on others. Still other times I secretly wish that I had taken English and that one day I will talk to high schoolers about the magic of all my favorite authors.

I feel a bit swallowed up in the big scheme of things, and sometimes I become overcome with fear. However, today I will just try and enjoy the crisp air and fiery leaves, attempt to stay awake in class, get through work, and come home and after doing homework sink deep within at least a few pages of my book. There I feel that all is truly well. I don't fear the future, and perhaps one day I will feel that same peace in my life outside the fiery leaves of my books.