A Public Journal

Dealing With Stress (10-24-16)

I thought I should probably start dating these entries for the sake of mementoes. 

This week is going to be one of the most stressful this school year so far. I just half-assed my LA project because it was late and I can't stall on it any longer. It makes me feel so bad because I take pride in my skill in English. I've barely even started on my letter thing for Civics and it's due in two days. I have to research what I think our new immigration policy should be and then find a credible source to back my idea up. I want to send my letter to a government official so I can at the very least feel like I've made a difference, so I have to sound professional. When I'm intentionally trying to sound professional it seems like my entire vocabulary takes a vacation from my memory to the fiery pits of Hell where I'll never find it. Thank God that I don't have to work on Bio at home because we're doing a lab for the next few weeks, or I fear I'd be more behind than I already feel like I am. 

On top of schoolwork I have to learn to songs for my church choir on my ukulele, and find a song for my audition. I might post a chapter after this with a playlist with some songs I'm considering for my audition but that depends on how much time I have to do that. 

I had to go to the doctor this morning (I missed math, yay!) to check out this weird bump I have on my finger. Apparently it's a boil and the doctor had to pop the puss-pocket with a needle. As it turns out, I'm terrified of needles. As soon as she took out the needle fear flooded through my veins, I protectively  held my finger as if it were my child and said "No. No way. We can do anything else other than that." The only other option was to cut the boil off with a blade so I thought that the needle was the better option. Here's the most surprising part of this, I started crying. I never cry at the doctor - and I mean never. Regardless of this, as I waited for the needle to pierce my skin, silent tears slid down my face. In my head I was panicking. Never in my life (with the exception of when I was an extremely young child) have I panicked at the doctor. I've fainted and then vomited (that's a long story) but never have I panicked. All that panicking was for nothing! It didn't even hurt because the skin above the puss-pocket was all dead. Go me. I'm starting to realize that I cry a lot more than the average teenage girl. 

Other than school and horrifying escapades to the doctor's office, I'm going to Washington D.C., which I'm actually quite excited for. The only problem is that I haven't started packing yet. Sure it's Monday and I leave on Saturday, but I have no time where I can pack except tonight and Friday. I have to wash clothes, buy a raincoat and facial wipes, and get over my fear of flying in five days. Ah yes, seems easy. Nope! I still have homework to do! Oh well, if I pack right now, I'll be ready. 

I feel really bad because I snapped at one of my friends today because I'm so bad at handling stress. She ripped my earbud out of my ear for no reason (which was kind of rude) so I said - rather coldly, which is why I feel bad - "What the heck! That was rude." So if you're one of my real life friends, I'm sorry if I'm acting like a bitch over these next few days, I'm just really stressed out and can really find a way to manage my time properly while still having time to unwind. 

I apologize that the last couple of entries have been me complaining but I'm stressed. This trip to D.C. is a much-needed break for me. I can't wait to learn about my nation's capitol and even see some statues of Alexander Hamilton, Lafayette, and visit George Washington's house.