I wasn’t able to write in my journal last night. I was preoccupied with schoolwork. I was unstoppable; I had to finish certain things before the day ended. I locked the door to my room, so roommate Sleep could not enter. Perhaps I will open the door for Sleep later on… maybe after volleyball training … around eleven in the evening.
Thank God classes are finally over. After having endured an agonizing wait for my turn to report and present the fruit of my labor – the one that deprived me of sleep – I finally… did NOT report.
My efforts have been put to waste… my sleepless nights, utterly unheeded. No. I’m not affected… not at all…
These tears? These are nothing. My eyes sweat; that is all.
I forced myself to look at the bright side: at least I have more time to improve my visuals and add more information and content to my report. Hitherto, I claimed to love stress. This is just an occasion to prove such “love”. Didn’t I say, “Bring it on, Stress; I wish you would just bring it on.”
…and what do you know? I got what I wished for!
And what is that singing I hear? Pussycat Dolls?
“….oh, be careful what you wish for
‘cause you just might get it (oh)
You just might get it (oh)
You just might get it (oh)…
Be careful what you wish for
‘cause you just might get (oh)…
Stupid song! It’s rubbing it in!
This is all part of college, right? – Staying up until the break of dawn to finish a course requirement, showing up to class with the hope of presenting it, only to meet disappointment and postponement and rejection and failure… and all synonymous possibilities… right?
Why do wishes come true at the most inopportune time?