The title of this post doesn't really have anything to do with the contents of this post. It's just a phrase that has been clinging on to my brain for some reason or another. One of my prof's told me that blogging is like shitting on your underwear and then turning it over and wearing it again.

I like it

His description of blogging I mean. Not the shitunderwear thing.

It's 1AM now. The week has officially begun and I'm glad for it. The last week has been rather bad for me. Nothing tragic though. Just. Bad.

Earlier in the week, I found out through my parents that my calculation of how long I'll still be in school was off. Instead of my projected one year and a sem, they tell me that according to the school, I'll be stuck in there for another two years. Damn it.

It's not that I'm doing badly in school, its just that my choices are coming back to bite me. Hard. Should have taken full loads like my classmates instead of taking it easy some sems. It's not just the length of my stay in college that is bothering me. It's the feeling that it is compounding on my earlier failures in life, like the stupidity in high school. So frustrating.

Add that to the general loneliness that I felt, hardly ever seeing the girl that I like, the feeling that I've let her pass through my own inaction. I think thats the theme of my feelings this week. How I've let my life drift off course, that if I had only acted sooner, more resolutely, I might not be so far off from the path that I want my life to take. It's emotionally rough, this feeling. It makes you sullen, unable to pull yourself together to extricate yourself from this situation.

And then to top it all off, I go ahead and lose my bag through my own naivety. It's not so much the material possession that I mind losing, its the memories that have gone into that bag. I've let my friends scribble little drawings and sayings all over its surface, making them a part of me for as long as I have that bag. Or at least it feels that way. But no, I had to go and trust that my bag is safe in a classroom with people. Grmble.

I also miss my drawing supplies, my Tria and Copic markers, various mech pencils and my notebooks. Dear lord. Please don't let whoever stole my bag read the cheesiness that are my notebooks.

And to top it all off, I saw the girl on Thursday. It should have lifted my mood. It actually did, for a while. But then I realized that no matter how happy she might make me feel, I do not believe I have the ability to make her happy.

And that feeling utterly sucks.

Ah well, another week, another chance to frak up my life some more.