When the professor is looking for someone to answer their question, you pick up your water bottle to drink. You do whatever you can to appear busy, to mentally convince the person in charge not to choose you, because the last thing you want to do is speak in front of that many people.
It is socially acceptable to have no idea what you’re doing.
I wish I could tell you that I’m sorry, even though I’ve already said it so many times. I’m sorry that I tend to self-sabotage when I’m too afraid of trusting my own happiness.
I tried to be normal and I failed. Believe me, I wish I could succeed at being normal.
You worry everyone in your program is smarter than you.
I should have limited my beverage choices to water for most of the week, hardening my heart against the lure of the cafeteria’s three soda machines and the free coffee shop.
You will discover parts of yourself that surprise you. You will connect with improbable, do the impractical…hell, you might even fall in love. You will spend a Saturday night with a strong buzz, dancing in the lights, and you will feel utterly and unshakably free.
“A Spanish teacher was fired on a Thursday. He came back in on Friday with a legally purchased AK in a guitar case. He went into the head mistress’s office and killed her and then shot himself.”
Make a list of places or people you might want to work with. Then come up with a list of 10 ideas for each of them that can make them money.
Because it’s hard to sit there and write a book. Really really hard. Someone should write a book how hard it is.