The Waiting Game

Sent in my Emerson application. As Peter Griffin said, "And now I play the waiting game." The suspense, Mr. Lies. It's killing me. Apparently I have about two months to wait. TWO MONTHS. I could be dead by then. And if my parents don't let up a little with their nagging, I probably will be. Oh, well. Let's all calm ourselves down by looking at this scary picture of Lady Olivier as Lady Macbeth. I think she was considerably less desperate than I am. Epic eyebrows going on here.

One thing that annoys me is having to slog through my Facebook news feed and read multiple statuses that say, "omg my life is jokeee lolololol." Your life is not a joke. You may be an idiot, but your life is not a joke. I don't go for any of those happy go lucky witticisms about not having to take life seriously because nobody gets out alive. To me, that seems like a reason to take it a hell of a lot more seriously. I'll admit I slough a lot of things off. My complete nonchalance when it comes to school drives Lenora up the wall. I usually just shrug and say, "I'll be okay. I always am." And I am lucky enough for that to be true. I have an easy life. Sometimes it gets frustrating, but it's not a joke. I take myself desperately seriously. Need to work on that. But I try not to sweat the small stuff. I accidentally wrote "scienece" instead of "science" once on my commonapp. I sent my mom an email saying I probably wouldn't get into colleg now. She did not find it amusing. Really, people. They are not going to reject me for an extra e. Once they find this blog, though, then I'm REALLY screwed.