Weiner Senior

I have been in school for about three weeks now. Senior. Year. Is. Insane.

Not really. I think that, internally, I am really nervous about the college process. I tried to play it cool so everyone would be jealous of how not-nervous I am. That facade is falling apart. 

Mistakenly, I told everyone my ED. It’s not difficult to get into that particular school from my high school. That makes me scared, because a rejection letter will just be another reminder of all the mistakes and lazy copouts I made when I was fourteen. And everyone will know. It’s a mental game, though, because I’m only applying to ten schools and I have like five supplementals to write.

Still, the stress is polluting my life and I need an out. My new plan is to go to West Point and dedicate my life to defending this country from the evil forces located overseas. It’s not easy work, but someone has to do it. Do they let women do military?

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9/11 was the other day, which a friend told me to blog about. What is there even to say? The greatest tragedy ever to hit American soil. The blood of a nation, boiling hot. Mamdani sitting in office, oh la-di-da. You know what I mean? Attacks on the motherland, while we send thousands of men overseas to their untimely deaths. For what? National ego-protection? You know what I mean? I understood it as I saw it. Sort of. I guess I was born in 2009, but in a sense, I was born in 1776.

There’s something to be said about a woman who isn’t afraid to talk politics en-blog. It’s a little powerful, and a little intimidating. 

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I’m sitting in Peet’s Coffee, staring straight outside the window. In my direct line of sight, there is a homeless man who has been relentlessly trying to start a game of eye-tag with me. Like an autistic child, or a cat, I refuse to make eye contact.

I like Peet’s because it is the only establishment I can think of that has gotten the memo that it’s autumn and it should be cold. The AC is cranked and the ambiance is warm. I am wearing the whitest tennis shoes ever manufactured. I can’t look at my feet or I will be blinded. I was embarrassed putting them on this morning, until I realized that our differences are what make us, as human beings, special. So I’m not embarrassed about my shoes, I wear them like a badge of honor. 

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Broke my 3-week No Blogging streak to write about literally nothing. I should start monetizing my life. Follow @NotYourMommasMommyBlog on YouTube.