I went to Trinity today to return a book I didn't need and to pick up my enrollment verification so that I can keep having insurance. Full time student = free medical coverage.

I'd asked more than once what qualified as a full time load, and I was told that two classes were my ticket. I signed up for three, thinking that I was ahead of the game. Unfortunately, I found out that, in the eyes of the registrar and the federal guidelines for student enrollment, I am only a three-quarters time student.

Alright. So I have a few options. I can add a class. I can duke it out with the insurance people. Stuff like that. I do need to do something. Of course, this meant evaluating my current situation and what I would like to do.

When I got home, I sat on my bed and moaned, "what am I doing?" This initiated a fit of crying that hasn't quite ended yet.

What am I doing? I don't know that I want to be a teacher. I feel like a fake in my classes, surrounded by people who are already safe in their careers. I don't belong in this program, and I don't really want to be a student anymore. I don't want this. Maybe I'd rather be working, but I'm so sick of applying to jobs and not hearing back. I'm so angry at myself for turning down the few that were interested in me. Why the fuck didn't I take that job in Boston? I'm tired of depending on my parents. I feel like a leech, less than a full person. I'm drifting, and I want to know where I belong. I want to leave, to take off and go somewhere and start again, but I don't know what I want to do or where to go. I think I need help. I want to talk to somebody instead of just posting on my blog.

And goddamnit Mom, I don't want to get an email about how you're worried about me. Stop reading my blog, please.

I don't have that many friends here. I'm home alone a lot. I'm lonely.

I thought I would be happy, moving to DC and starting a new life, but it's the same fucking thing. It might even be worse. I just want to stop.

I feel so sorry for myself right now, and it's gross, and I hate it, and I hate me. Get me out here, please.