i like school. like i like learning about things. really like it. learning about things and writing papers about things that i've learned and taking tests to prove that i really learned them. god damn do i like proving that i know things. i really think i get off on this in a sick type way.
VALIDATE ME! I NEED VALIDATION CONSTANTLY! OH MY GOD GRADES! I HAVE THE BEST ONES! FUCK YES I AM THE SMARTEST! I HOPE MY CALCULUS TEST IS HANGING OUT OF MY NOTEBOOK FAR ENOUGH THAT EVERYONE CAN SEE HOW FUCKING SMART I AM!
i'm glad i just found out what a fucking idiot i am.
anyway i am quitting school and everyone is fucking pissing me off. like my mom. last time i talked to her it went like this. me: MAYBE I WOULD ANSWER THE PHONE WHEN YOU CALLED IT IF I THOUGHT YOU WEREN'T GOING TO BE A COMPLETE BITCH. her: YOU ARE GOING TO GIVE ME A STROKE AND I CAN'T EVEN SLEEP AT NIGHT BECAUSE I KNOW IN MY HEART OF HEARTS THAT YOU ARE GOING TO END UP ON THE STREETS. me: AT LEAST WHEN I END UP ON THE STREETS I CAN BURN MY VARIOUS DIPLOMAS FOR WARMTH. seriously i wonder if i am the only person in the world with a masters degree whose mom stays up all night thinking about how her daughter is so worthless she could never not end up homeless. i seriously almost wrote my mom a letter today telling her to fuck off and die.
also i told my mom i was thinking about getting a journalism degree and she's like I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO DO WITH THAT. uh probably the same thing i was going to do with my phd which was hang it up on the wall and make people look at it. i just found out northwestern's masters in journalism only takes one year i think maybe i won't talk to my mom for a year and a half and then one day when she calls me i will be like I HAVE TO GO I'M ON MY WAY TO WORK AT THE NEW YORK TIMES, YEAH I LIVE IN NEW YORK NOW, WHAT DO YOU MEAN HOW DID I MANAGE THAT DID YOU FORGET ABOUT MY JOURNALISM DEGREE, OH WAIT I NEVER TOLD YOU. OKAY WELL SEE YOU AT CHRISTMAS. this is the part where you comment and tell me i'm too stupid to get into northwestern. and i don't actually want to work at the new york times.
also i think one time i told my mom i wanted to be a literary agent and she told me i would suck at it because i have no social skills. um as far as i can tell literary agents read and get drunk. i really have no idea how i could do anything but excel at this. i brought this up again recently and i think she told me something like it's too late because i'm practically already dead. too bad nobody told her that when she decided to get her masters degree when she was FIFTY FUCKING YEARS OLD because that could have saved my entire family from the salisbury steak years.
then this guy i went to school with tried telling me to go work in a gas station for the rest of my life. apparently everyone i know thinks i am an idiot and can not do anything. too bad it turns out i can do whatever i want and what i want to be is a serial killer i guess because i am seriously going to murder these people.