My essay got sent away 23:59:00:00. The deadline was 23:59:00:00. If I pass then the teacher is really nice with the grades - it was a horrible essay.
If I count today I have eight days left here at Paintworld. Eight days. Then I'm off to do something else for three years (hopefully) and then the year I turn 28 I'll be on the right way to do what I want to do. I think. I can't predict the future and I'm not really sure I want to - wouldn't be very much fun to always know what's gonna happen.
I'm terrified though. Not yet paralysed with fear, but incredibly scared. What if I can't get my loan to become mortgage-free for these years? What if I won't be able to pay my bills? What if I fail at absolutely everything at the course? What if the sky falls down? What if I drown in a tidal wave? What if, what if, what if?
Everyone tell me that "it'll be fine - you'll do great". But how can they know? They tell me that it feels like this for everyone and I suppose that's a bit of comfort. Of course, it doesn't help me when I feel like throwing up or when I want to scream out my frustration about not understanding a paper or now, when I keep thinking about how I'm going to pay my bills.
I think I'm going to listen to everyone. I think everyone is right. I think everyone know a bit better than I do right now.
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