A N D S O

I think it's been awhile since I talked to you.
For that I apologize.

I explain:

I got a job at Michael's Craft Store.

I am a cashier. I do not count anything. I like the kids that aren't bad. I make money.

I'm moving.

Ty and I have been living in a poor excuse for a house. (But it was ours which, in the end, was all that mattered). We're moving, signed the papers today, and should be in within the next few days. It's a great apartment, water and power included in the rent. Two roommates at the moment. Clean, new, DISHWASHER. It's great.

I haven't done NaNoWriMo. (Or MAT99, for that matter). I get stressed sometimes thinking about anything, because I have this sinking feeling something should be wrong. There's all these people around me telling me that I should just give up, go home, school is too hard, I won't make enough money, I won't be able to have a future. And I get stressed, and I cry, and I sleep and I don't think or realize the truth: Everything is okay.

I make minimum wage. I live in student housing. I go to a shitty university. I don't write everyday.

I eat, daily, a lot. I'm living on my own, at eighteen (at fifteen). I'm in COLLEGE. I AM a writer. I'm happy that I'm doing these things. I am doing what I want to be doing with my life, and the joy and fulfillment I get from doing so can only be judged by me.

I was living in a shitty house, now I'm not. I didn't have a job, now I do. I wasn't doing well in school, I figured it out. I'm overcoming the trials of life and if I wasn't, then I wouldn't get the satisfaction that I do from it.


tl;dr:
I'm happy because my life is hard and I can deal with it. Shut up, & thank you for caring. <3 <3