I had a bad day and am trying to decide what to do about it.
Plan A
Declare myself a failure, drop out of school, forfeit the SLI scholarship, resign from anything that suggests I may be a committed, responsible person, get a job at Starbucks, live in my parents' house for the rest of my life and become the embarrassing black sheep older sister nobody talks about.
Plan B
Declare myself a philosopher, decide I need to find myself, drop out of school, take my entire worldly wealth and abscond to Switzerland (with Dave's parlor guitar, just to make it all really bad). Go to L'Abri and philosophize and learn how to smoke. Become the embarrassing black sheep older sister nobody talks about UNTIL I come up with a stunning new philosophy and get hired by an ivy league school.
Plan C
Stop complaining. Get out of my work clothes. Pray for mercy. Finish writing my HCom paper. Sleep. Pray for mercy. Dream about deadlines and the evils of procrastination. Wake up early. Read John. Go to the office first thing and try to work things out as best as possible. Pay my tuition. Deal with admissions and records. Present my HCom paper. Come home. Listen to Mark Driscoll while doing data entry.
Okay, that helped. Let me know if you want a postcard from Switzerland. They have some nice ones of the Alps . . .
7 comments:
haha.
I'd rather go with and see it for myself.
Sorry to hear about the bad day... Hope today is better for you.
Listening to Mark Driscoll usually brings me great cheer. He's the Ann Coulter of preachers.
Oh, no! I don't know if I can like him anymore then.
I hope today is better for you and everything gets straightened out. Can I go to Switzerland with you and Jourdan instead of a postcard?
:)
Can I have your plan B if you decide not to use it? It seems I've driven my supervisor to quit his job, and L'Abri sounds like a pretty reasonable place for an MA drop-out...
(Is mercy really what you need? I mean, any more in this situation than in the rest of your existence? F/H/L, my friend! He's with you all the way!)
Yes, mercy is what I needed . . . from a bankruptcy clerk in LA. More on that . . .
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