Stressed Out: the life of me

In four days, I hit that magical age everyone waits for. I’ve already turned sixteen, eighteen, but now it’s on to the big one. No, not fifty; I’m not golden yet. I’m talking about twenty-one. And what do I have to show for it? Anxiety, mostly. Student loan debt. A bitter attitude toward most people. And a genuine openness for the weird. But I think there are some good things, right?

I’m a college senior! I’ve made it to my last full year of school! At least until… I look into possibly teaching. Yes, I am looking into teaching after I graduate from Central. I’m not sure how much I can find in my future with just an English major. So, that’s something I’ve got going for me? When you hit sixty credits at this school, you can actually substitute in the state of Michigan.

I’ve got a job! I’ve got two jobs! I’ve had both of these jobs since May of 2014 and I’m still going strong, except for the fact that working in retail has given me this awful bitterness.But I’ve got such great friends at this store and I miss them through the year although I go home for winter breaks to make that cash I need to survive.

I’ve fucking met celebrities. Half the people who live in my town can’t say that. Yeah, I paid for these photographs and autographs, but guess what? I’ve met Chancellor Palpatine of the Star Wars universe. And Billy and Mandy. And Aquaman. So, bite me.

I donate more to charity than most people I know. Yeah, I get stuff in return like bombass tee shirts, but it’s still charitable.

But I’ve seriously learned so much in my time here so far. I’ve read so many books and seen so many movies and I’ve done so much that makes me happy. I’m living for me and even if I have regrets in my life, I’m doing well. I’m missing people, but I’m also good. And this weekend, I’m ready to get fucked up with whatever alcohol is available. Deal with it cause I’m an adult now and I am smart enough to make my own choices.