Priorities and St. Paddy’s

I’ve allowed myself to finally admit that my priorities are mixed, and need reevaluation. I’ve gotten spectacular news in regards to my graduation at the end of this year- I’m right on track. I’m almost there…!

But with that being said, I’m running out of time for so many things. I need to get myself back on track. I had so many ambitions and goals last year…until the end of 2015. That has since transferred over into 2016, and I’m having a damned hard time reorganizing my goals, and getting my motivation kicked back into gear.

I’m at crunch time. I’ve put myself into a bind, here. I’ll survive it; I’ll come out towards the top. I don’t have a choice, here. And I won’t be proven wrong by some bitchy girls who can’t get their own heads out from their asses, either.

My freedom is nigh. I don’t care who’s envious/jealous/or even hates me to their core. I’ve lived through enough in my life to declare I need to be out of school, and away from this state. It’s a constant love hate relationship, of which it’s also a trap. Those who do not force themselves to leave, remain.

I can’t do that. Living the rest of my days here just isn’t an option.

I also need to prioritize the content I’m writing, on here. I won’t let it slip into something impartial, impersonal. So for starters…

Today was St. Patrick’s Day. Normally I don’t go out. But I’m 24, this is (officially) my last spring semester of college. So my brother and I decided to hit the brewery, then the pub.

And it was all anticlimactic. What happened instead, was morons infiltrating the pub, and some piss beer got spilled onto my hip. (Yes, you read that correctly folks! My. Hip.)

Other than that, mild day. I’m turned off of alcohol and junk food right now. My body can no longer process the latter correctly.

I also have $200 I’m willing to spend on healthy groceries. (The rest is staying in my savings account, for moving purposes next year.)

And my relationship feels like it’s hit a weird point. He and I are too stubborn. He wants immediate, and I need my own pace. Makes me worry. No one else is worried…but he and I feel that tension. And it hurts.

I hate this pain. I feel guilty, even though it’s not my fault.

You’d think I’d learn to stay by my own decisions and views…and not give more than will ever be given back to me.

I love him. I really do. We click beautifully, and contrast even more so, perhaps. But some of our similarities, like our stubbornness, need to be harnessed from both our ends.

So good news is I’m nearing my freedom. Bad news is, I’m running out of time…


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