Rally 'round the out of reach fool.

This week has been difficult. I officially started pledging for a fraternity with which I know I will be happy to be in for the rest of my days. And although that doesn’t sound difficult (yet), I’ve already had to have someone cover my shift at work so I could go to the first ritual.

I missed class twice this week because of a sickness. I hardly ever get sick, but this week I had a day of terrible allergies and a night of a stomach virus. I was terrified that my appendix would burst—or something of the sort—because of how easily my stomach was fucked up when I was little (ask me if you really want the long story that matches the scar on my abdomen).

Now I have to write a paper on the French Revolution (<3) but I haven’t read the 40 pages of material with which I need to write the paper. This weekend, I need to write a draft of a paper whose subject and context is completely fucked up, as well as start a story that I’m afraid of writing. (And I have a story I’m in love with on the back burner, along with dozens of books that warrant my attention.)

I’m starting to feel overwhelmed again. Something’s gotta give in order for me to continue doing “well” in everything in my life at the moment.