Oh, Fall Out Boy, you are my guilty pleasure. And I admit that usually your lyrics just aren't that compelling. But this one seems to fit me perfectly right now: "I'm a stitch away from making it, and a scar away from falling apart."
Don't you hate when you can't explain yourself to people? I tried talking to my mom but all I got in return was "you yell at me and you're depressed." But I only yell when she wants to discuss grades (because it freaks me out) and I. am. not. depressed. At all. I just had a bad day. The kind of bad day that takes your other bad days' lunch money and then pushes them down on the sidewalk. I mean, I knew my grades were bad. (If you are now wondering if I studied or in fact DID watch When Harry Met Sally on repeat with a tub of ice cream and mourned the loss of my GPA, then I bet you can guess.) Yes, I knew my grades were bad. But getting a letter saying I am on probation for my scholarship made them seem so much worse. Being on academic probation for my sorority didn't hurt like that did.
Yes, I would prefer to just quit school altogether, move back to Memphis for good, and paint. for forever. But seeing as bad luck has taken a liking to me since 1992, it's not that easy. You know, some rich man isn't just going to marry me, at some point I'll probably need a job. But here's the worst part of my situation. "WORST?" you may ask. Yes, it's worse. I have nothing to look forward to. It's one of those slumps. As soon as I got antsy today I knew it was bad. This happens sometimes; I get antsy. Antsy because there is no one exciting in my life, because I'm not used to being single for... almost six months? That sounds shallow though. It's not because I'm single, I highly recommend the single life. I am living it out of choice here. Just nothing exciting has happened for an extremely long time.
It's a slump.
