I’m terrified. Absofuckinglutely terrified. My stomach has turned into a tangled mess of the leftover scraps from my mind and my heart and I can’t focus on starting my essays, even though they’re due next week and quite possibly determine my future.
Today was the first legitimate meal I’ve eaten in a few days… unless you count an entire box of Coconut Dreams from last night (the regular equivalent of Samoa girl scout cookies) as a meal. Which… I kinda do. So today was the second legitimate meal I’ve eaten in a few days.
I don’t know what I’m terrified of other than these essays. Or rather, starting these essays. Once I get the first paragraph down, the only thing I have to be scared of is running out of things to write. Which is a very possible situation, but I’ll worry about being scared of that later.