Oh hey. I don’t very much feel like focusing on frustrating assignments right now… and behold, I shall write. I’ve always wondered why I’m so bothered by everyone else’s academic achievement. Or rather, why I feel the need to push myself past some invisible limit. Yet I fail sooooo miserably. Why is that? I can obviously do better and try harder, but something about that seems so…boring. Of course, I want a job right out of college, like everybody else here, and I want to have the spectacular resume that we’re all supposed to kill for, but I’d much rather write and do things that make me happy. Oh dear blog, what would I do without you? My academic advisor tells me to find an internship, and I continue to tell myself that I belong on an organic farm somewhere in Scotland, away from the world growing filthy, fantastic dreads and potatoes. I used to love school, but I seem to have been away when that all changed. I used to be good at school. Ha, I must have extended my trip. I wonder how much that cost me. It may sound strange, but some part of me is so thankful that I’ve adopted this new attitude. Granted, there are a lot of things I could probably be doing differently, but I am so happy in the path that I’ve chosen. And that has to count for something, right?