Buzzkill

So I’m not sure what it is about October that just wants to piss me off so badly…it’s only been two days. Maybe it’s the weather. I feel like I’m trapped in that Shakira song:

Si es la lluvia de todos los dias que ha aumentado su nivel
ya la musica no tiene el mismo efecto que solia tener
que no se ni que idoma hablo…
Y por mas que yo lo intente,
no me escucho ni mi propio voz.
Ya no sé si he vivido diez mil días
o un día diez mil veces….

Maybe its that it’s been raining more,
because music doesn’t have the same effect
as it’s supposed to.
I don’t even know what language to speak in…
And as much as I’ve tried,
I don’t even listen to my own voice.
And I don’t know if I’ve lived a thousand days
or just one day a thousand times.

Only problem is that the Spanish pop goddess is talking about love (the song’s called “I Need You” for christ’s sake), and all that’s getting me down is life in general. I feel that “oh-shit-i’m-overinvolved” vibe coming on, like I’ve been blowing off schoolwork to deal with ostensibly ‘real life’ stuff, and eventually that’s going to be a problem.

Part of the problem is that I hate looking like a slacker. I’m a procrastinator, to be sure, and I may not be the most organized person in the entire world, but I do my work. Having my Spanish prof. think that I just don’t care enough to find a thesis topic kind of blows, because that’s very much not the case.

Having my photo prof. think that I just have “sloppy” composition only because I can’t afford a tripod also, as they say, blows. Especially since I spent an inordinate amount of time taking what I thought were really cool pictures of coffee, and worked really hard on the assignment; too bad the class thought that i ‘failed to execute’ what I was attempting; usually the teacher says “Okay ____, thanks for showing us your pictures. Let’s move on.” With me this morning, all that I got was her looking at the grade sheet, tilting her head with a sort of quizzical “hmm….” and some arched eyebrows. Give me a fucking break. They weren’t that horrible, were they? Other people in the class just did theirs the night before!

Having the Watson committee eat pizza on the dean’s couch in his cluttered office didn’t really impart the seriousness I had hoped for in the interview, and I just want to go in and shake them all, yelling “look, you stupid people, I put a lot of work into this, and I know half of the other applicants just threw their shit together the week before!”

And of course, having to objectively look at all that shit and realize that none of it’s really that important, and that if I’d been just a little more organized, a little more observant, and a little more aware of the fact that I’m not going to get by on just my *charming* personality, I could have remedied all of the aforementioned situations before they squashed me down a bit. What’s that, Thea having problems with overconfidence? That’s a new one. It has not been a good week for my interactions with authority figures, which worries me. Usually, I have difficulties enough dealing with my peers, and I can handle adults just fine, but when that falls apart too, it’s a bit of a downer.

Fortunately, I have in the cupboard what I discovered in Sevilla is the remedy for any and all bad moods or buzzkills: Nutella. Crusty, slightly warmed french bread and sweet chocolate hazelnut spread tempers bitterness quite effectively. I am a little perplexed as to why professional basketball players are advertsing it; apparently I should “TRY KOBE’S FAVORITE.” Whatever, man. I don’t ask questions as long as it keeps tasting good.

Hopefully this weekend will be fun; big plans for First Friday in Old City, and much productivity with regards to work.

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