If only passion paid the bills.

I’ve got so much to get done and so little motivation. I don’t think I’ve ever been such a terrible student in my life. I blame reddit and how overwhelming this semester has been so far. I worry so much about all of the assignments I have to get done until I worry so much that I decide to just ignore them. Until I fall behind and worry a whole lot more. So tonight is one of those sleepless nights when I make a desperate attempt to study things I don’t care about and answer questions I’ll likely never face again.

In an ideal world, I’d just write. I’d sit at a typewriter with a bottle of wine and throw my emotions into something I enjoy. I’d create characters that you couldn’t help but love and relate to. I’d impact reader’s lives the way that my favorite authors have touched me with words. I’ve always loved writing, but within the last year I’ve been able to identify it as my passion, as what I want to do. What I want to be. So I can’t help but wonder why I’m focusing on things that matter so much less. I don’t know. I never know.