There comes a point in every semester.
I am hoping that this is that time, because it means that I’m getting it out of the way with six weeks left in the semester.
There comes a point, when I have spent three hours searching for a record online that I just can’t find from a credible source (but that about 20 dumbass blogs with Edward Cullen as the wallpaper feature, quoted perfectly)…and I just say, fuck it.
There comes a point when I wonder why the everloving fuck I do this to myself.
When I think, you are 29 and you were supposed to be having kids at this point, not thinking about writing a master’s thesis.
When every dream I had seems so far away. The thesis. A happy marriage. A family. A house of my own.
There comes a point when I just hit the wall and slide down.
And then that point passes, and I pick myself up, dust myself off…and do what needs to be done.
Let’s hope that time is now.