*An intro: something different today- a creative narrative. Enjoy please.
It happened.I was so convinced it wasn’t going to, but it did. I even told people it wasn’t going to happen.
But I was wrong. 3:47 pm on Saturday afternoon, I found myself in panic mode about finals, and I ended up in tears in my closet.
Yes. In my closet. On the floor. After a few minutes had passed and I had exhausted all of my not-exactly-genuine-more-like-dramatic-effect tears, I paused to reflect.
“You’re being ridiculous. You need to pull it together, write your essay, and then start studying for everything else. You’ve done this a million times, you can do it. Be an adult. Besides, I look great and I better be going on multiple job interviews in the spring- don’t screw this up.” snapped my Banana Republic power suit from inside its garment bag home.
She’s right, and I know it.
“But wait, think about how much fun you’re going to have over Christmas break!” my fur vest piped in. “No business casual for an entire month!”
That sounds really wonderful…also most of my other friends have been done for weeks. Why am I still here? This is the cruelest of punishments. When I get home, I’m going to sleep, drink coffee, blog until I’m literally out of ideas, and do everything I want and nothing I don’t.
The activewear section interrupted my daydream of my copious amounts of free time: “Um, why are you wearing that Juicy Couture tracksuit, is it 2003? What about all of these leggings you buy on impulse?”
Okay, 1. those are exclusively for the gym/when I’m going to be around other people and 2. IT’S FINALS WEEK I CAN DO WHATEVER I WANT BYE.
Speaking of the gym, I haven’t been today.
“Well you need to, we’re bored and tired of being in this box,” exclaimed my running shoes. Yeah, that makes two of us.
Okay, I’ll go to the gym. But I have to write at least one page first. Or maybe just a paragraph. Actually, I’ll just go over the chapters for that topic and think about it while I run.
Crap, it’s 4:03. I literally need to GET IT TOGETHER.
No gym until you actually do something productive, Kristen. Like write a blog post. Or eat dinner. Too bad you cleaned your room already or that would count.
4:05. Clock is ticking on your success at life/this semester. Actually, I have a really got shot at something above a 3.5 for the first time in a while. I should work on that.
“Good talk, guys,” I say to my garments. “And thanks for lighting a fire under my butt, Banana Republic. I can always count on you to make me be responsible”. (side eye to the tribal print mini skirt.)
Here’s hoping your finals week is coming along better than mine, and that if not you also have a nice closet to cry in.
That’s all for meow!
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