Laying here, listening to the rain and thunder outside the window. The fan blowing lazy air over my sweaty, sticky skin. My hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and clad in the barest of essentials.

It's nights like these that make me want to be an artist, a musician, a poet. I want to create beautiful things and have beautiful people appreciate them. It makes me want to make love in the dark and have someone trace their fingers across the ink etched into my skin. It makes me want to live in a little flat in a busy city and have a little bartending job and a yellow kitchen.

Tonight/you just close your eyes

And I just/watch you

Slip away.

I don't believe/in anything.

Sometimes I mean to update this blog more. But I'm not 100% sure anyone reads it. So then I don't. But I'm in the mood to write, so here I am.

School starts 1 week from today. I experienced the extreme disappointment and heartbreak of not getting into the program that I have been working on getting into for 6 years. The night I found out I got rejected was a pretty horrible night for me. I felt the weight of years of school and the thousands of dollars of debt crash down on me and I cried for hours. I cried for the disappointment of hard work down the drain. I cried for the frustration of being tossed through every stupid hoop and ring you possibly could by Utah State University. I cried for the anger of the professors who I sought help from for years and was brushed off hundreds of times. I cried for the panic of not having a back up plan. I cried for failing.

Luckily for me, I had been working on a Sociology minor and, after frantic research, found out that I only have 7 classes I have to take to graduate with a Sociology major instead. So I dropped all my classes, registered for new ones, and will (fingers crossed) graduate with 8 years of college in May 2012. I just need to drag my ass into three different offices to get my change of matriculation form signed. I'm not quite sure what I'll say to the head of the Social Work department when I go in to have her sign. "I played all your bullshit games and didn't get into the program, so I'm switching majors? Oh, and by the way, you've been the WORST academic advisor ever?"

On the work front, I have now been at my job for officially 1 year and 2 months and a week. I can't believe it's been that long. The past year has flown by so fast. I love most of my coworkers and 40% of the time enjoy the clients that I work with. I'm planning on staying there for at least the next school year and then will evaluate what I'm doing once I graduate. I just gotta figure out how to stop bringing work home with me. In the year that I have worked there, I have gained almost 60 pounds. High stress job (constantly worrying about girls running away, killing themselves, or trying to beat the shit out of me) equals high stress eating.

Someday I'll figure out the balance.