Master plan: Take a writing fiction class in my last term. Use the course to write a groundbreaking novel. Earn millions. Put credentials on inside of book. Write script version. Cast JGL as lead hunk. Have a well documented super-affair. Lose millions earned in movie deal when he drops out due to scandal. Write a second book. People read it out of curiosity but hate it because its not as good as the first. Go through early mid-life crisis. Write another book under a pseudonym. Earn more money than book one, but can’t publicly earn back respect without coming out. Buy a modest house. Grow old. Write an autobiography. Get a dog.
Everyone has their problems and my problems are the most horrible and most awful of problems because they’re my problems. Sometimes I like to jump into the lives of other people and imagine what their lives must be like. To hate your life, to wish you could be doing something else, to dislike your spouse, to lose a loved one, to be endlessly discontent, to be unable to see the bright side of things. All kinds of problems people have, but I don’t have those problems.
I’m getting alumni emails. Stop.
If I unsubscribe will you let me stay in college?