I'm starting to feel like I'm riding a bipolar rollercoaster. I'll be doing just fine for a few days and then--BAM!--the suckiness of life hits me again and I'm back down in the dumps and I don't want to even get out of bed. Then I figure out a solution for the immediate issue and things are okay again and I can function. I got so used to my life being relatively even keeled, stable, reliable and drama-free that this past year, especially the last six months, is a shock to my system. It wasn't perfect, but I was floating along just fine. Today I feel like I dropped down the steepest hill on the ride, got taken through an upside down loop-de-loop (like the Orient Express at Worlds of Fun that I first rode at age 4 with my dad) and then suddenly the car flew off the tracks and plummeted towards the ground at lightning speed with no way to steer or brake. The hill was when everything I did earlier today went wrong (my hair and outfit for the oscars costume party) and my mom told me that I would probably end up having to pay $1100+ in taxes. The loop-de-loop was going to the party and hanging out with friends, laughing and trying to forget about my impending debt. The crash came on the way home when I found myself bawling in the car as I drove home. Now I feel like my brains are scrambled on the pavement and I'm trying to crawl out of the pile of rubble and shit that my life has become. If I could go back in time, I'd re-do college and this time I'm major in some soul-sucking business college major. I had the skills, the talent and the brains to do it. I just didn't want to. But I would. Then I could trade my soul to the devil in exchange for a 100k+/year job in corporate america and I would have a house and a fancy car and I wouldn't have to borrow money from my parents ever again. But no, I had to be an idealistic idiot and insist on majoring in English so that I could be a writer. I didn't realize then that while all companies NEED people who can write, nobody actually values them enough to bother to hire them.
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