that time I got writer’s block

I really have writer’s block guys. Like, I’ve started the beginning of this post about 5 times already and can’t think of anything witty or worth writing that anyone would be interested in reading. Maybe NOW I’ll actually start losing followers. Maybe I’m just brain dead from my episode last week in combination with cramming for THREE exams this week. As much as I did study, I realized that overstudying is a real thing. In high school they always warned us of “overstudying” which I thought was total bullshit because how can you OVER study? If you know that material page by page and can recite it without anything in front of you to the point that all you can think about is the information you’ve studied, then I think you’re more than set for a test.

Turns out this is definitely not a good thing.

I overstudied, but I absorbed absolutely nothing. Man, why did I take all classes this semester in which my grade is reflected by my test taking? I can’t even take a buzzfeed quiz without getting distracted or disliking my result. I can write a paper no problem. Last semester I went insane with writing. As in, I wrote a 10 pager AND a 5 pager in about 7 hours. Cited sources, bibliography, background research and all. Except I didn’t proofread at all. But I got an A. That’s like, college mastery if college was ONLY papers. Most of the posts on my blog I write in less than an hour, sometimes half an hour. I guess the content must be alright if you guys are still here reading it.

Wow, writer’s block is terrible. I’m writing about writing. I have to keep you guys coming back somehow though, right? Honestly, if you give me a prompt I will write a post about that. As long as it doesn’t involve D Trump’s hair or “Feeling the Bern.” Thanks, I know where I stand politically, I’d rather sit out here in the sun and not scroll through the internet finding more and more redundant articles about what political figure did or said what or how the Trump’s hair looks today (honestly though, why does he not have a stylist with the amount of money he has? Unless he thrives on making his own style decisions… in which case, if you can’t even make your hair look okay because of personal choice, I won’t vote for you. Personal appearance is a make it or break it, let’s be real. Everyone voted for JFK because he was a handsome young candidate. And he was actually a good president.*)

Oh here’s something: So it’s been like, 80 degrees all this week. It’s still technically winter and I’m confused but considering how happy the sun and warmth makes me, I’m not complaining too much. Sun brings the Alice in me out. I’ve been wearing my sundresses and heels everyday. But today I walked out of the house in a skirt that was kind of flowy (yes that’s a word spellcheck, don’t tell me I’m making things up), realized there was a slight breeze, but nothing too bad. But of course, if the wind is 5mph at my house, it’s 20 at school. So yeah, I’ve been that girl walking around campus keeping my hands by my side nonchalantly to make sure I don’t flash anyone (at least I’m wearing cute undies and not grannie panties. That would just be embarrassing). The odds of me pulling a Marilyn Monroe today are slightly high. It’s not like it’s never happened before.. flashback to standing on top of the building of the Newseum in D.C. and my skirt went up all the way. At least I was, like, 13 and in middle school and not 22 and on my college campus.

And in other news, Alice is back. She is alive. She’s weak, but she’s still here! Proof? Blob. Alice loves working with Blob for some reason. She must like him even though apparently she doesn’t. He definitely seems like her type but you know what, she also tried to convince herself that she liked my ex-boyfriend also and that did not end well. Anyway, I transitioned for the first time in a few months last week. It was very brief, and thank god she didn’t try to drink anything (Alice is more of an alcoholic than I am) because I’m trying to stay sober and not fuck with my blood pressure. I was there in a depersonalized state though. She seemed exhausted. What the hell has she been up to? Her wonderland must be falling apart. I can feel her as a part of me still. My hypomania has come back in small bits, just like how I felt when I felt fully integrated. My libido is back, I love my lingerie again, no pants are the best pants, I’m craving meat again (I really should get my iron levels checked, a bacon cheeseburger sounds so good right now) and damn my legs look good and I know it.

Or maybe I’m just happier being sober.

*I know I said I wouldn’t talk about politics, but JFK was a pretty damn charming man. Get real guys.


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