A Perfect Match

We were a perfect match, maybe that’s why we burned out. 


Scraps – No mom, I’m not ACTUALLY failing school.

College students. We lose sleep over the hundreds of homework assignments, tests and papers we complain over. However, we get them done… Don’t we?

Don’t take us seriously when we say we’re lazy, nap-abusing failures. Yes, I JUST started writing that paper due on Tuesday. Maybe I had a billion other things to do beforehand. I’m still going to Ace it. 

Here’s to the 18-22 year olds all over the world complaining about two hours of sleep and stress eating the night away… Because those are the hard workers with the 4.0’s.  

So don’t worry about me. Don’t worry about any of us. We just need a shot of tequila and we’re right back in the game. 

Scraps – The Awkward Glitch

And this is the moment I realize there is a serious glitch in my choice of career.

I can score all the A’s I want in my college courses, but that will never retract the social awkwardness I have when saying hi to a fellow teacher walking down the hall.

“Hi how are you?” Mrs. Lazarus greets me politely.

“Good I am.” I stutter back.

Perhaps I’m coming down with a case of the Yoda’s. Whatever the issue, this only inflates my desire to become a professional writer. In the solitude of my own four walls, I never have to greet my pen before using it.

Scraps – The Nutty Compliment

Yesterday I went to see the nutty professor to talk about our last test, maybe score a few extra points. I thought his grading was a bit unfair, so I took a stab at it. Surprisingly, he said something that made me smile, and not those fake smiles you give a professor to kiss his/her ass. He told me I was a good writer. “Where did you learn to write like this?” was all he continued to say. “Half of what you wrote is completely wrong, but it was so beautifully written I couldn’t mark you off.” I left his office with nothing accomplished but a compliment and a stupid smile. I guess I’d rather be a good writer.

Scraps – My Fault, Apparently.

I think everything Is my fault when it probably isn’t. Most stuff, at least.

This morning I woke up early to attend field work. Jess, my carpool, never texted me to come to the parking lot when she was outside (per usual). I thought, maybe she over slept? I texted her about ten minutes later asking where she was. She responded quite nastily, by blaming it on me.

She broke two phones in the past week and didn’t have my number. She waited for me outside for 5 minutes just incase I thought to come out. I should have “touched base with her” because we haven’t had field work in a few weeks.

I franticly apologized, because that’s the kind of person I am. I don’t think twice about taking the blame, I just hate when things get ugly.

I probably should have told her to f*** off and touch base with ME if SHE’S the one who didn’t have my number. Because how was I suppose to know that? We had class yesterday or she could have sent me a Facebook message.

Either way, I need to stop blaming myself for these kind of things and start standing up for myself. Not everything is my fault.