The past 24 hours...

I went to work with no expectations and ended up having a great shift. Sang the whole walk home. It was only -12C and I was in fine form, I thought, I am figuring out this university life and feeling like I can do this. I love my life.

Then in a meeting with my student adviser about applying to go to Korea and random things. I find out that my heinous university of lethbridge grades will always count against me. They will always bring my GPA down. My nursing schooling is looking like a big fat, NO. I hate my life.

I then go straight to statistics class and half the lecture goes right through my already full brain. How can he talk about this when life is going on. seriously! I still hate my life.

I decide to write my parents the venting email of death and call Linds to commiserate with me. I find a way to make the email somewhat hysterical and funny (all at the same time), and Linds says, "Who cares." she still wants to go to nursing school with me so I should still apply. I love my life.

I send the email and hang up the phone and put on the Killers and start really contemplating whether I am human cause I know I can't dance...I hate my life.

I decide to cook the one meal a week because after all my day can't really get any worse than it already is. I make Beriyani and it turns out. This is a miracle of sorts...I cook edible food...who knew... (no smoke alarm...bonus points). Thank you Nate... I love my life.

I can't help but give in to the massive pity party of wondering what the last few years are going to look like on my overall track record of being a bit of a freaking-out, emotional, over-analyzing, mess up...this brings me to the dorms snack time where I ingest massive amounts of icing and carrot cake. I hate my life.

I wake up this morning and get an email saying my grades won't count against me after a certain amount of time elapses. I won't have to continually pay for my past GPA. I can at some point apply for nursing with my new and better GPA. I love my life.

Grandpa calls me to say, "Hi, and how's your health?" as grandma would say:). I love my life.

I go to statistics lab thinking that I have to get an A in this class if only to prove that I am university worthy and I can do this school thing. And I get there and realize I have to learn Chinese to understand statistics...or some foreign language that logical people invented. I hate my life.

I work out after lab with my roomy and get a massive influx of endorphines and positive thoughts start seeping into my pessimistic little brain. I love my life.

the end