To the window, to the wall, to my 9 a.m. I crawl.

                                                                                             Photo illustration by Skye Clayton

I’ve got 99 problems and they’re all due this week. 

The fourth week of spring semester is done—not like I’m counting or anything. If I wasn’t feeling slightly overwhelmed two weeks ago, I’m definitely feeling it now. My classes have evolved from PowerPoint presentations and endless textbook chapters into quizzes, tests and papers. Throw in endless amounts of homework, a job and the responsibilities of personal life, and I’m ready to resign from adulthood. Thank you for the opportunity, but it’s just not for me. If anyone needs me, I will be hiding in my blanket fort coloring and watching Netflix.

College life for me is like playing a multiplayer video game with a bunch of people on normal. Everyone playing has struggles, but over time their gameplay slowly improves. Although I’m technically on the same level as everyone, I feel like I'm playing on expert with a map in another language, no ammo, crappy vision and a controller with sticky buttons.

I’ve heard the college survival tips, “eat healthy, exercise and get enough sleep” so many times I’m starting to wonder if the people that can do those things on top of their classes are even human.

How do you expect me to eat healthy when a salad costs twice as much as a McDonald’s cheeseburger and isn’t as easy to eat on-the-go? I don’t cook at my apartment because I pretty much live at the school. When I try to eat healthy and buy produce, I forget I bought it and it sits in the crisper drawer molding into something worthy of any science class experiment.

Coffee and Red Bull are my best friends. My diet usually consists of coffee, Red Bull, more coffee, a couple hurried bites of a granola bar I found swimming around in the black hole that is my backpack, followed by more coffee. By the end of the afternoon on a school day, my body is shaking like a scared Chihuahua. The amount of caffeine I have in my body could quite possibly kill a small animal.

Exercise? I count running late to all my morning classes because I snoozed the 20 alarms I have set on my phone as cardio, so I’m covered there.

Sleep? What’s that? Is that a college term for a really long blink? Every time I close my eyes, I can’t stop thinking about how I need to get my act together and figure out what I actually want to do with my life. I’m fairly decent at math now from the endless nights of calculating the possible hours of sleep I could get, and it didn’t cost me $100 for an access code!

I’m so sleep deprived I accidentally fell asleep on the couch and woke up around two hours later wondering where I was and hoping I’d slept through the Donald Trump Presidency. You can imagine my disappointment when I checked my phone and saw the same drama on Facebook. I’ve come to the realization that being tired is just a part of my personality at this point.

I’ve learned that sleep is religious and my roommates know that if they wake me up, it had better be because the apartment is on fire. College is about learning things, not just about the world but about yourself. Learning how to survive college sounds humorous, but we all struggle with one thing or another. If sleep is one of your struggles, find out what is causing the problem. Is it stress? Too much caffeine late at night? Existential dread? 

We’re all adults in college, but sometimes we need an "adult" adult—a person with more life experience—to help us. Don't be afraid to ask for advice if you're struggling, because we're all struggling. Some students are just better at hiding it than others.

We could always petition the school to create a nap class that teaches students on how to take effective naps. I could pass that class with my eyes closed!

College Life: University Woes

Nothing screams college more than eating ramen noodles out of a mug at 3:30 a.m. while questioning your existence.

College life is like the feeling of hopeful elation you have on the first day of school when the professor has just finished going over the class syllabus. You assume class will end early so you can go home and take a nap.

Then when the professor opens up Microsoft PowerPoint and immediately goes into the lecture reality hits, like a physics textbook to the face. You look over at the person sitting next to you, staring at the slide on the screen like a deer caught in the headlights, wondering what is going on? 

That’s the golden question that college students wonder daily. No one really knows what’s going on, we’re all just really good at faking it. No one is perfect, and the few who know what they’re doing with their lives are the fortunate ones.

I am not one of those lucky ones. I don’t even know what I want to eat for dinner, let alone what kind of career I want to have. I would look at everyone around me and feel so inadequate because I seemed to be the only one struggling. College is hard and knowing that you’re not alone can really help with a rough day.

With College Life #Relatable you can expect to find me getting through the semester just like you. I’ll be writing about what many students are thinking, but too afraid to say. Consider me your Gandalf, Yoda or Spirit Guide through your college experience.

I’m sure I’m not the only student who sometimes feels a little overwhelmed during the beginning of the semester. I wish my university offered a major in stress with an emphasis in anxiety, because I would exceed expectations in that area of study.

It’s only the third week of the spring semester, and I’ve already sat down in the wrong class, caught myself accidentally staring at someone while zoning out during a lecture, been late for my 9 a.m., had a printer go rogue and print 267 pages one-sided instead of double-sided (so much for trying to save trees), cried to my mom about dropping out, and googled which of my internal organs I could sell and still live.

I have painstakingly learned many college life lessons through trial and error. The free food they have during events on campus is the reason I haven’t died from starvation. I gave up looking good the second day of school because sleeping in an extra 30 minutes is a big deal. Especially when you’ve stayed up all night doing the homework that you put off to binge-watch “Stranger Things” on Netflix. I put the “pro” in procrastination.

So, before I go, I’ll let you in on a couple kernels of wisdom I’ve discovered since attending Uni.

The elevators in the library operate on this strange idea that up is down and down is up. Don’t bother pressing the elevator button, you will only get caught in this elevator trap. Save time and take the stairs; your perfect attendance record will thank you.

Stock up on scantrons from the campus bookstore, and no I’m not talking about a Transformer action figure.

I think it is ridiculous that students have to purchase their own scantrons in order to take tests, but trust me on this one. Once I went to the testing center and forgot to bring a scantron and they wouldn’t let me buy one there. So, in order to make it back on time to take my test, I had to run faster than Usain Bolt to buy one at the bookstore.

Learn from my mistakes. Buy a small package of scantrons and put them in your binder at the beginning of the semester. It’s convenient to have them around when you need one later on down the road.

College has a tendency to sneak up on you when you least expect it. Just know you’re not alone and don’t be afraid to ask for help — just make sure to check the syllabus first. 

Depression doesn't have a face— it has a mask built with "I'm fine."

I know I always joke about dropping out of college, but I’ve really considered it today. It’s not something I take lightly. I’ve had so many amazing opportunities come my way and I worry that I may never have them again if I leave…but today I was sitting in class and laughed. 

You may wonder why a laugh is a big deal, but its significance is that this particular laugh wasn't fake.

Many around me can't tell that my smiles and laughs are fake because I am a decent actor. Years of working in the restaurant business has honed this capability to appear perfectly fine while the kitchen is in utter chaos.

Attending college is akin to working in a restaurant. Everyone is running around in a blind panic jumping through ridiculous hoops, beating our bodies to the point of exhaustion to get a decent tip AKA grade. We plaster fake masks painted with fake smiles to our faces adhered with extra strength glue to keep it from falling off halfway through class because, heaven forbid, no one wants to end up being THAT kid in class who started randomly crying during the professor’s lecture.  

My smiles and laughs are fake, but my tears are real. My stress is real. And my depression is real. 

It's like Peter Pan's Shadow with a mind of its own. Some days I think it's gone, then I wake up and it's holding me down-smothering me in the bed. Hopelessness is consuming me and I can't move. I can't breathe, I can't sleep. I want to scream, but I can't even find the energy to do that either. Sometimes I can't even cry. Mostly though, I cry too much. 

The world is hurting, our nation is hurting, our children are hurting and I am hurting. I see all this pain around me and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to fix myself. I don't recognize my own reflection in the mirror anymore because I can’t seem to take this mask of “I’m fine” off. I've stopped looking people in the eye during conversation because I'm scared they will look through me and see a soul that is shriveled and dying. 

But I try to keep moving. Sometimes I make it to school. Sometimes I make it to my computer, Sometimes… I don't make it out of bed. But the one thing that motivates me to try and keep moving is this strange ability I seem to possess that makes people laugh. 

I love making people laugh because I have forgotten what it feels like to laugh. I’m talking the good kinds of laughs that cleanse the soul, lighthearted, full-bodied or just simple ones over humorous little things.

It makes my day when someone tells me they love my Facebook posts or I get someone around me to laugh over something I said.

Today, I felt that laugh deep inside my bones and for that small moment spring began to take root in my soul. It felt like someone had opened a window and I could finally take a breath and clear my lungs-my mind from this fog I can’t seem to find my way out of. 

It was over something ridiculous too—I was sneaking a Taco Bell burrito while watching a PowerPoint presentation in class and trying to hide it. But the important thing is: I didn’t feel the gravity of grades, homework, the state of our nation, my future, fear of failure, fear of disappointing anyone, fear of wasting my time here on earth, my existential dread— pulling me down.

The laugh—that quick staccato of breath— was enough in that small moment to grab onto and carry close to my heart and lungs for later, when the heavy waves of despair come crashing down on me again and I need to take another breath. 

Politics brings out the worst in people.

Yesterday I had a friend on Facebook tag me in a Pro-Trump video and say, "Missy, you and your friends 😂👏🏼👏🏼" 

At first I just rolled my eyes and repeated to myself, "Don't engage. Don't engage." 

But as I watched the video and saw the uneducated democrats that were interviewed look like complete dumbasses give answers that had no information, I felt insulted and a little hurt. 

How convenient that the only people shown in the interview can't give a good argument in favor of their political standing. 

And this friend (and his girlfriend who was my old roommate up until a couple months ago) was inspired to tag me in this video and tell me it was me and my friends. Like my friends and I are complete dumbasses too stupid to know any information about what's going on in the U.S. to give a good counter argument as to why we don't support Trump or his policies.

It really hurt my feelings. 

I've never once tagged him, or anyone else I know by name that is a Trump supporter, in something to clearly insult and hurt. I'm not that kind of person. 

Yes, this election is emotionally charged on both sides, but we shouldn't let it turn us against each other or use it as an excuse to insult and demean. I don't support Trump, but that makes people assume I automatically support Hillary. 

Honestly, I'm a Bernie Sanders fan, but our choices are now between a man who has absolutely no political experience, doesn't respect women, shows the same sense of entitlement that people love to hate millennials for and is a racist. 

(When you say all Mexicans are rapists and criminals you are racist. Sorry, this election doesn't include take backsies.) 

When you say you got away with grabbing a women's pussy because you're rich- THAT IS ASSAULT. 

Clinton isn't much better imho. She tends to change her standing to get votes. Is she a criminal? Does she have the mostly republican congress in her pocket because she deleted a bunch of emails and got away with it? I don't know. It's hard to tell the truth because the media contradicts and spins so many stories in it's web it's hard to believe or trust anything you see and hear about anyone anymore. 

But one thing you can trust is: that if we, as a people, continued to hurt and degrade those that we know and those that we don't, we will continue to have these unqualified or "crappy" political candidates that actually seem to reflect our own nature in some ways. After all, we're the ones that helped them get to where they are now. We molded them in our society, while they were growing up and learning how to handle the world, to be people that want to win a reality tv popularity contest by throwing insults and gossip. I'm just expecting the Kardashians to pop in now. It's a freaking joke. 

We need to be better. 

A president won't make it better; congress wont make it better. 

It's us. The answer is us. We need to stop the hate. Stop the fear of that which is different, because different isn't always "wrong" or "bad." 

This nation hasn't lost God, it's lost it's humanity.

The future is now, but history will just keep repeating itself.

I woke up this morning thinking of the future and considering my options. I asked a friend at work the other night, what motivates her to get out of bed everyday in and day out. She told me that her kids are her reason to get up. 

I started tearing up and quietly asked, "but what if you don't have kids? What then? What do you do when you're drowning in the monotony of daily living and you don't even have the air to scream or the energy to cry for help?" 

She told me I needed to find something I loved, something I was passionate about. Something that would give me a reason to get up and start my day. I began to think about everything I had once loved and enjoyed doing: ballet, dancing, singing, reading, socializing, making new friends, writing, traveling, swimming...

But where those things once resided in my heart I now only felt exhaustion, emptiness, and dread at the thought of having to do anything besides get up, work, sleep, and survive the day. 

Maybe she saw the growing panic in my eyes or maybe she just saw how truly lost I felt inside, but she began to tell me that if Pokémon was all I had right now then to just, "freaking go for that dude. Be the very best." 

Of course I started laughing and crying at the same time (something I've been doing on a daily basis when the numbness I've constantly been feeling fades away for a minute) because I know I've been blowing up facebook with my obsession over Pokémon-Go. 

But even the excitement of the game is wearing off now and I'm slinking back into that hole in my mind where I can curl into a ball and not be bothered with the problems of the living. 

I'm constantly bombarded by things in the media, on Facebook and other websites, that millennials have this sense of entitlement. Or that the economy was screwed before we even had the chance to grow up. 

Well, I feel that I've reached the adult phase where I should have my shit together, but I don't even have the energy to get my clean socks together and put them away. 

How am I supposed to thrive and find purpose in my life when I'm constantly told that all the things I used to love and enjoy don't offer well paid jobs? Or my university doesn't have that specific program, so pick another one.

I'm stuck in the mud and I can't move forward or backward. Everywhere I look there is hate. Our very own presidential election has turned into a reality tv popularity show starring rapists, criminals and liars. The only person missing is Morey telling Trump how many children he has fathered without realizing it and a cat fight between Hillary and Trump's wife to break out onstage. 

It's a joke. It's all a joke, but it isn't funny. No one is laughing. I'm not laughing. I want to just turn it off, but it isn't that easy. This isn't some silly show on tv that has paid actors. This is real life. This is the country I live in. These people who I see in both political parties that are screaming hate and hurting each other through their abhorrent actions isn't funny to me. 

It saddens me that we have reached a point in history where the media feeds and gains viewers through its focus on inciting unrest through fear and anger. 

In an era where we are more connected than ever through applications, emails, facebook and other related things; instead of uniting together as humans for a better world, we are divided by race, gender, religion, nationalism, capitalism, fear, and hate.

Something is wrong. I can feel it in my bones. I don't know how to fix it. I don't know how to fix my own life. But others must see this too. Others that want change; want hope. Because power in the wrong hands leading a people filled with complacency and silence will never change anything.

Help I've messed up my future, how do I CTRL+Z my past?

I wish I could go back to the time in my childhood where building pillow-forts and taking a walk through the neighborhood was an adventure akin to Bilbo Baggins leaving The Shire. It's funny how you grow backwards once you reach a certain point of adulthood. 

You can't go up anymore- your growth is stunted. You have no future, go back from whence you came- there is no room for you here. Everyone has dreams and yours is just another on a long, long dusty list of American Dreams that couldn't be fulfilled through the aid of government benefits, a silver spoon or your own two hard working hands.

You're smart? You're driven? You're creative? You have goals? You want to BE somebody- leave something of yourself behind to be remembered after you die? We have thousands of applicants with those exact same qualifications and aspirations. They're all slightly better than you-so what makes you so important?

What makes you so important?

Compared to everyone else, what sets you apart from the rest? You're all beautifully different aren't you? You are unique...just like everybody else.

Show us what sets you apart.
Show us.
Show us, show us, show us.

Cause we like a good show and if you aren't viral, pretty, or another child prodigy Einstein, you are just wasting our oh so very valuable time.

You have very beautiful blue eyes. Blue is your favorite color, you say? It's like 90% of everyone's favorite color too. That answer is too basic, give us something more. What about your eyes?
You say that they notice things that others don't? What do you mean you can see the social injustices of the world? The injustices of the systems we have so carefully built for you- for us? For the good of this country; for the good of the world.

I have a sister/friend/cousin/mother/grandma/coworker/teacher/friendwithbenefits/wife/girlfriend/prostitute/daughter that says that she doesn't feel the same way that you do. Maybe those inequalities that you’re seeing don't really exist if those other women say that they don't. I mean, they are women, just like you. They would know.

It's not like we are putting them on a pedestal while force-feeding them gender rolls filled with .77 cents to the $1.00 to make them stupid happy. Content to just sit there, complacently swinging their perfectly manicured feet, smiling for a camera that adds ten pounds. 

Others like you are making mountains of mole hills. Go burn your bra or something. You seem to be the only one seeing the problem, so maybe that makes you the problem. If you don't like it-just leave. Nothing is keeping you here.

Nothing is keeping you here. 

You see a glass ceiling? We see the clouds beyond it. Glass is meant to be looked through- not looked at. Stop seeing the things that are limiting you and start looking at what you can do in the small cramped confines of the cardboard box we have placed you in. I see here on your Instagram that your cat George really enjoys cardboard boxes. So why can't you? 

Stop seeing the cracks in our foundation. Stop seeing. Just turn your eyes off like we've programmed everyone else to do. Just step over those cracks, you don’t want to break your mother's back-or her heart would you? Besides, we don't want to focus on those things- there is no time to focus on them because Kim Kardashian just dyed her hair blonde and looks like Draco Malfoy. 

Those things that you see are all in your head. You're over thinking things. Here, have some chocolate and watch the Superbowl. Or better yet, go get me a beer and make me a sandwich and be happy just like everyone else.

Just like everyone else.

We want you to be yourself: wait. No. Not like that.

You're being yourself wrong. Be unique, but don't be too different from the mold we have created for you- for everyone. One size fits all. Standardized tests for the living. Because we want you all to be beautifully basic. This isn't Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters.

Here, take these classes you don't really need for your actual major, but we are requiring it because it's good to have an overall basic education in bullshit. Plus we get to make a profit off it, so why not?

Education has turned into a business to prey off the dreams and hopes of innocent children wet behind the ears in their adulthood. They don't understand what bottom line they are signing their name on when handed that feathery pen full of empty promises. They've been programmed since birth that this is the only way to a better life. So, they take that pen and sign away their childhood innocence on student loans. 

Just wanting to get it done, get it done

GET. IT. DONE.

They've sold their soul to a many-limbed devil (hail hydra) to exchange their mermaid tails for human legs. They walk onto a barren wasteland filled with Corporate Power, Capitalistic Greed, Climate Change, Sexism and Discrimination all topped with World Hunger. They've agreed to a student debt they cannot fully repay that will only be forgiven in their death.

Yeah, you can try and work part time to help pay for your tuition, fees, books, scantrons (I still want Michael Bay to name a Decepticon scantron), pencils, food, medical expenses, rent, car payment, insurance, gas, phone bill, and let us not forget the most important thing: TOILET PAPER.

Working and going to school isn't easy and yes Cs get Degrees, but As get Baes.

And textbooks.  They will update every single textbook every single year and only add one sentence so you can't borrow your roommate's old one and they will charge you over $250.00 for it.

You can math right?

$250.00 x 4 (or 5) classes =a steady diet of Ramen Noodles, Mac and Cheese, Spaghetti O's and Coffee.
-Multiplied by an astronomical amount of stress, loneliness and feelings of inadequacy. 
-Add never being good enough.
-Divide it all by dreading to wake up every morning only to do the same thing all. over. again.
-Carry the heavy amounts of guilt, expectations, and overdraft bills proving that you have no money to get yourself anywhere in life.
And you have your answer:

Welcome to college where we will take your money, your hopes, your dreams, your tears, your ideas, your aspirations and even your soul. Only to give you back an empty shell crippled with student loan debt, a tassel to hang limply off the side of your head and a worthless piece of paper (cause that field isn't hiring) that will keep you warm for a night, if you set it on fire.

But just in case, here is a box of matches that were free over at the Trump Tower. If you get cold again, just light yourself on fire and do us all a favor and shut up. 

There are people that have it worse than you, so why are you complaining? What's up with you lazy people always wanting free handouts from the government? Those are funded with my tax dollars you know. You are basically working for me. 

The holes in the public education system exist, but we pretend that they don't because we are too busy focusing on praying the gay away. Or making them GO away by beating iron hands bloody on a book that would rather have a father sacrifice his own two daughters to be raped and beaten by an angry crowd than to have it happen to the 2 male angels visiting his house. [Genesis 19:1]

All work and no time for play makes Missy a very inquisitive girl.

But I digress. 

I know I keep doing that- sometimes my thoughts are hard to string together in a coherent pattern that makes sense. I don't know if it's my ADHD, the Adderall or the large amounts of green tea and coffee that powers this operating system of mine. I feel like I am due for an update anytime, I have all these bugs in my system that need to be worked out and I keep getting these complaints from Users. But the programmer seems to have forgotten about me and is too busy playing that stupid Flappy Bird App that is getting loads of attention and money from the ever demanding public. 

And money is everything in this world we live in, you know. 

College is shitty, but it will all be okay.

Okay?
Okay.

No, it's not okay. You're not John Green and all our stars seem to be faulty. I'm not a cancer patient with a perfectly fictitious boyfriend who has one leg. My relationship status is Netflix a carton of ice cream, and my refrigerator for crying out loud.


But tell me something.

If someone says something so many times. Repeats it over and over again to themselves, like a personal mantra- does that make it true? Can someone convince themselves the validity of a lie?

What if you write it down. Seal it with the blood of ink on paper. Make it into a book and make other people believe in it. Believe your carefully woven lie. That makes it a truth right? Isn't that how history and religion are created? With the blood, sweat, tears and dreams of the oppressed to create the black colored ink used to write the words of the oppressor with their grand feathery quill? 

Let me distract you with this pretty feather pen that I let you borrow earlier to sign your life away, while I use it to write the lies of a generation and create a world where I am the victor. 

But who really wins in this story? 
Who wins?
Because winning is everything.

How do you find the monsters, when they are inside our own heads.

Hidden behind human masks of "Hi, how are yous" and "I'm fines".

Who is good and who is bad? 

Where are the wolves in sheep's clothing? Or is that just what the Fox says?

Who will cry wolf when there are no actual sheep left, for we've turned them all into wolves.

We've created monsters-smart phone zombies-one nation under god with liberty and justice for all.

Justice for all#Yes all Women
#Not all Men.

We're spoon fed anti-depressants and anxiety pills through McDonald's Big Macs and lies watered down with Diet Coke to make them easier to swallow. We realize that we have nowhere to go on this yellow brick road muted with the flickering florescent lights of the golden arches lighting the way-our new North Star. 

We are trapped in a system that we can't escape from and they will never let us leave. We are prescribed pills to keep us silent, to keep us complacent in the flesh and bone prisons they have created for us. Prisoners in our own minds. Drugged for pre-existing conditions pushed onto us at birth, a national debt never to be repaid. Red white and blue babies born on the American conveyor belt with our hands over our hearts, pledging allegiance to something we literally can't even--

Comprehend because they dumb us down with drugs and media. Dumb us down with things that don't matter. They keep us running on this hamster wheel- too busy to think, too distracted  to see, too numb to feel. 

They make Higher Education a joke that we are tired of laughing at because we don't want to be their punchline punching bags anymore. The voices of truth meant to wake us up are drowned out with the voices of the Media filled with hidden agendas surreptitiously slipped into our entertainment- for your entertainment.

We will return to your paid programming after a few short messages.

Paid programming. We are essentially paying for our own brainwashing. We even look forward to it because it helps to distracts us from the problems that we know exist in this world that we can do nothing about. 

Sometimes it's nice to just relax on a Lazy Boy chair, put your feet up and lie back. Deep sigh as you let out the breath of polluted air filled with fossil fuel and words you've been holding inside for so long. Set your brain to idle as you watch image after image flash on a screen only to disappear. You let yourself go numb watching a reality that isn't even your own. 

We focus on the colors of a stupid white/gold-blue/black dress, when we should be focusing on the blue/black hand shaped bruises of rape culture surrounding the wrists of women like shackles. 

Fifty shades of discrimination with white identification tags, tied with golden strings around the toes of dead black/blue men who played the part of a stereotype shown to them by the Media. A self-fulfilling prophecy of racism and bigotry to keep you company at night.

But who is keeping these boys, these men who have died because of racial profiling, company at night? Who is the omnipotent being in our prisons that are filled to maxed capacity because we don't know what to do with those who break the mold. We don't know what to do with them.

We don't know what to do.

Is the presence there God? Because ya'll need Jesus. 

One Nation 
Under God.

But which God? 

For we have many here. 

America embraces multiculturalism. 

Just like ISIS has been embracing the Middle East. The Modern Crusades. Same action just a different face. A different religion. A different book. A different time. Funny how we are so busy fighting, dying over our religious perception of what will happen to us after we die, that we forget to actually live.

Now I lay me down to sleep I pray to the lord my soul to keep. 

My soul to keep.

Do we even have souls anymore? Does God have the answer? Does science? And if they do have the answer, will we even want to hear it? We have many eloquent words to describe a being that peaced out forever ago.  Spoiler alert: he still hasn't come back for us yet. Maybe there is a reason why. 

We're just waiting 

Waiting waiting for someone else to pick up the pieces and fix these problems that we have helped to create. 

WAKE UP. 

We need to roll up our sleeves and fix this ourselves. We've taken a step further past lazy and have unintentionally stumbled into the blood of our American Snipers, our soldiers who have come home from a nightmare created from our greed. Only to discover that the country they've come back to is fighting its own battle. 

Once someone sees, they can't un-see. 

PTSD -Is There Something Wrong With Me? 

Swallow down this pill that hasn't been fully tested, but approved by the FDA cause they need to see the cash start flowing in. The worst possible side affect is death, but don't worry you won't be that one in a thousand. 

You won't be anyone. 

Just add the pill to your growing list of medications to help you function like a normal zombie in our fucked up society. All will be all right. Okay? Okay.
Civilian life is easy. Just pretend pretend. 

We're all pretending anyway. 

Our veterans are forgotten in the giant shadows of Kylie Jenner's lips. Our Captain Americas sit awake at night, their minds switching from one image to the next, like some sort of horror slide show playing on repeat. An internal Civil War on a big screen that they can't shut off. Shut off-

SHUT IT OFF.

How do we shut it off? Is the power button? Where is the mute button cause I'm tired of hearing all the complaining.  Maybe we can CTRL+ALT+DELETE it? Or maybe a full system restart will work- it worked for the Government.- Thanks a lot Obama.

We don't have the right instruction manual to figure it out. Either God threw it away in the very beginning or it was altered over the years. Maybe Nicolas Cage can find the original copy. Another National Treasure hidden behind our Constitution that keeps slowly changing before our very distracted eyes. 

How do we solve our problems when we never really had the right answer key to correct them? All we have is a musty old textbook nearly 3,500 years old, written by male students about lectures spoken by a teacher that hasn't bothered to show up to class for a millennia. Is this on the syllabus? Are we going to be tested on this later?

People are willing to die for this. Die for a book that preaches hate disguised as love instead of die for a better world to live in where people actually care about one another without the fear of going to Hell- when we are already living in one.

You know what? Let's just leave all this for our children to figure out and clean up later. Youth really isn't wasted on the young. That is just another lie we were told. 

The youth just might save us-if we program them right. Put the messages we want them to learn into their cartoons, textbooks, music, advertisements, sugar coma cereals to help raise them with big American egos and a strong moral fiber with an inner compass pointing directly at the American flag.

They didn't lie when they said that the good die young. 

Programmed to die for your country, die for your government. We're the Land of the Free because we exploited the Brave. 

Oh my gatos: Help. My roommate's cat is in love with me.

So my roommate has this cat.

His name is George and he is in love with me. The only problem is... I'm allergic to cats. I have been my entire life, so I know absolutely nothing about cats besides the fact that they make my eyes itchy, my skin break out into hives, and cause my asthma to act up. I consider myself more of a dog person too and I have loved and trained our family dogs since they were puppies. I really love all animals and when I was little I wanted to be a veterinarian until my cat allergy- and the unfortunate thing where I tend to get dizzy and pass out over seeing blood- came to interfere with that dream. But that's something that we wont focus on for today.

Gosh Missy focus. FOCUS.


THIS IS WHY WE DON'T HAVE NICE THINGS. MY STUPID ADHD.

So anyways,  I don't like cats because I am allergic to them. I try to avoid them as often and possible and if I ever pet kittens (because come on, kittens are adorable and if you don't think so you are probably Satan.) I need to wash my hands like right away. Over the years I have found that I am more allergic to certain breeds of cats than I am to others. But I honestly don't know which.

Then I moved to St. George kind of last second and found an apartment right across the street from the University. It was perfect. I wouldn't have to pay for parking or worry about driving to school or being late. I could literally walk across the street and be to my class! Once I found out that it wasn't student housing and that there are essentially no rules besides pay your rent and don't break anything- I was all in.

Only problem is- my roommate has a cat.

Technically, we aren't allowed pets, but I am not a narc- so I just live with it. The roommate knows that I am allergic and was totally fine with giving George away to a friend if my allergy to him became too much.

So the past 4 months I have been avoiding this cat like the plague. The first month started out a bit rocky. George is a living cliché and very curious about my bedroom. So any time I would leave my door open, he would sneak into my room and investigate EVERYTHING. Like I would run to the bathroom and leave my door open for like not even a minute and come back and he would be there, languidly stretched out on my bed chillin' like he owned the place. I would freak the frack out, kick him out of my room and have to immediately wash all my bed sheets. (this happened a few more times until I got really good at remembering to close my door every time I left.)

I started using his name like a curse word whenever I would find him sneaking into my stuff.

GEORGE


REALLY GEORGE

DAMN IT GEORGE

GEORGE NO

GEORGE STAHP

GEOOOOORGE

GEORGE.

GEORGE WHY.

The second month consisted of he and I hating each other (mostly one sided with me hating him and him acting like he didn't care) but at least he left me alone for the most part and stopped sneaking into my room so much. I would let him outside a lot because he is mostly an outdoor cat  and him being outside meant less of his fur inside! I would ignore him for days at a time and refuse to interact with him in any way shape or form because I can't afford to get attached to an animal that I am allergic to and can't cuddle.

Then the third month came and with it came a homesickness and loneliness that had me missing my dogs back home. I started talking to George a bit more instead of talking to myself (cause that's crazy and if I am talking to an animal then everything seems normal, right?) I would be making food in the kitchen and George would mosey on in and kind of flick his tail all sassily at me and I would start complaining to him about work or school.

He started waiting outside for me to come home late from work and as I would unlock the front door, he would rub up against my legs making some weird humming noise that sounds something like a car idling at a stop light and my dad when he snores at night. (I have found this is something cats do called purring and I think it's a good thing.)

I would stand there all frustrated knowing that I would have to wash those pants later, but just take a deep breath and let him into the apartment, all the while muttering his curseword name under my breath like a personal mantra.

Really George. Really.

Then he started seeing my Netflix binging as an opportunity to make the first move and to let me know of his intentions. I would be sprawled out on the couch watching Parenthood and suddenly BOOM.

CAT ON MY LAP.

He would just sit there. And I was at a loss as to what to do because I can't really touch him to get him off my lap and I want minimal cat fur all over me...so I would just sit there, unmoving, hopelessly praying that he would get off me sooner rather than later.

Oh he is good. He knows. I'm not even kidding you. This cat knows.

He started acting all cutesy and cuddly, trying to break down my barely tolerant walls toward him. And slowly it's been working because I miss my dogs so much and just really love animals.

It's like a forbidden love. 

I would come home from a run and start stretching in the living room when he would suddenly be there curling up into my legs like, hey I know you have stretches to do, but I think this is a lot better way for you to spend your time. I mean, come on. Love me. Pet me. Here let me just brush my chin all over your knee getting my fur all over your jogging pants. Oh you don't like that? Here let me stretch out all the way. See, I'm human. I'm stretching with you. We are like a couple that does stretches together! That fur is just your imagination. There is no fur there. Just large amounts of my love for you, Missy.

And I would be sitting there all exasperated trying to figure out how to make this cat stop loving me. I would open the door and say, "George. Outside." expecting him to get all excited and go running out the door like my dogs back home would have. But instead, he would give me this contemptuous look and start licking his front paw like I wasn't even there.

I WANTED TO PULL OUT MY HAIR. LIKE FREAKING CAT GO OUTSIDE. LISTEN TO ME. I AM A HUMAN- YOU ARE NOT. I NEED TO STRETCH AND YOU WONT LET ME. STAHP THIS NONSENSE NOW GEORGE. I REFUSE TO LOVE YOU. I CAN'T LOVE YOU-I AM ALLERGIC TO YOU.

But did George care? Ooooh no. He would just meander past me and flick his tail in my face so I would start sneezing.

Little prick.

Then I discovered one night that he liked people food. I honestly had no idea cats like to eat human food. I thought just my dogs would eat anything you handed them. But here I was watching Netflix and George decided he needed a cuddle from the one person that couldn't give it to him, and sat on my lap while I was eating a Spicy McChicken. He looked at me and I looked back, unmoving hoping this cuddle would pass quickly, when he started sniffing the food in my hand. So, I decided to feed him a piece of lettuce.

HE ATE IT.

I was so shocked! I started feeding him little pieces of food whenever I was home to see what he would eat and what he wouldn't. (he doesn't like apples)

I now have decided that feeding him human food was a bad idea because he WONT LEAVE ME ALONE NOW.

Anytime I have food he will jump on my lap and wont move until I give him something. If I refuse to feed him some human food he will sit on the remote control so I can't watch the next episodes of my TV shows.

Other times he will be sitting around chilling and the second I sit down alone on the couch (if anyone else is in the room he treats me with a cold indifference) but the second I am alone he will jump off his perch and meow at me and curl up on my lap and start purring like a maniac. It's like the more I try to hate this thing the more he is like LOVE ME. LOVE ME YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO. I REFUSE TO BE DENIED YOUR LOVE.

I eventually started petting him, not sure if I was doing it right because I am only used to petting dogs. But he seems to really like it. And if he doesn't he will usually bite my hand. (he isn't a very nice cat.) Sometimes when I come home late at night and he is already inside he likes to plan sneak attacks that scare the tar out of me. He will hide behind a corner and jump out at me and attack my leg and then dart behind the couch when I scream.

I think he is just trying to keep me on my toes or something. I really have no idea what is going on. All I know is that this cat is either really in love with me, or really likes to torment me. Maybe those things are one in the same to him. All I know is that cats are weird creatures and I'm semi okay with his company right now.