So, my life of late has been an unending, bizzare coma of stress. While studying for the SAT II's I drank so much coffee that, by Thurday, my right eye had developed a persistant twitch and I had begun to stutter. Every moment was devoted to the Progressive Era, Civil War, Great Depression, or some other clump of American History that was liable to prove completely useless past anything but standardized testing.
Meanwhile, back in the Nazi enslavement camp that masquerades as the yearbook room, I, as Senior Editor, dealt with endless problems and worked, including the 7 1/2 hours spent during the school day, 16 hours a week on one 67 page section.
Then, I was forced to take the public bus home (a nightmare worthy of Edgar Allen Poe tales, considering it is the Miami public bus and is, therefore, a mecca of drug lords and street girls).
This is, of course, not including the six college applications I have dutifully been completing, letters of recommendation, grade reports, begging teachers, and financial aid.
Along with my regular school work, which includes four AP classes, I nearly had to prostrate myself in front of the SSHS and NHS officers to not kick me out of their clubs as I have been neglecting duties because of the aformentioned bizarre coma of stress.
Compounded with the fact that I no longer have a car, my wallet was stolen, I haven't yet turned in my community service hours, I have no date for Valentines Day (again), and I see my future as an endless spiral into shadow, I am beginning to have permanent circles affixed beneath my eyes.
My friends think I'm avoiding them, and I am struggling to adopt some vestige of positive, bohemian thinking to pull myself from this abyss of darkness.
End date of all : Feb 15
Meanwhile, back in the Nazi enslavement camp that masquerades as the yearbook room, I, as Senior Editor, dealt with endless problems and worked, including the 7 1/2 hours spent during the school day, 16 hours a week on one 67 page section.
Then, I was forced to take the public bus home (a nightmare worthy of Edgar Allen Poe tales, considering it is the Miami public bus and is, therefore, a mecca of drug lords and street girls).
This is, of course, not including the six college applications I have dutifully been completing, letters of recommendation, grade reports, begging teachers, and financial aid.
Along with my regular school work, which includes four AP classes, I nearly had to prostrate myself in front of the SSHS and NHS officers to not kick me out of their clubs as I have been neglecting duties because of the aformentioned bizarre coma of stress.
Compounded with the fact that I no longer have a car, my wallet was stolen, I haven't yet turned in my community service hours, I have no date for Valentines Day (again), and I see my future as an endless spiral into shadow, I am beginning to have permanent circles affixed beneath my eyes.
My friends think I'm avoiding them, and I am struggling to adopt some vestige of positive, bohemian thinking to pull myself from this abyss of darkness.
End date of all : Feb 15
