I'm in my last stretch of finals before the sweet relief of summer comes and meets me. Right now I'm getting back in touch with the friends I haven't seen in forever and miss dearly. I'm hoping that somehow this summer I'll be able to remember why I work as hard as I do, and hold myself to the expectations that I do, merely because I'm trying to feel like I'm successful.

I've basically thrown the entirety of my spare time into incredibly unrealistic tv shows that I can stream over netflix. Because my life has become such an indescribable hell-hole that I am completely useless and antisocial the second I don't have any real work to do.

How is it that I'm 21, and I'm this incredibly angry, bitter person who doesn't feel much like there's a reason to be living except to be alive day in and day out? And I mean, right now it's all worth it and I keep plodding on because I have to and I need to but one of these days "just because" isn't going to be enough and I'm going to want a damn reason for all of the bullshit and the pain and the sadness and I have no idea who is still going to be standing there to give it to me.

Rant over for now, I guess. I have a lot of nothingness to get back to.

So I'm sitting on my couch on St. Patrick's Day watching The Social Network while buried in manuscripts from different sections of "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" and attempting to start my articles for the newspaper that I'm an editor of. Because of newspaper policy I'm not allowed to talk about the articles that are going into the paper or what I'm writing, but essentially I have to design this week's worthy national and international news pieces and supply it in a two page spread.

Something tells me that I'm not doing Spring Break the way that I'm supposed to.