The Book Bully

Every year I promise myself I won't get in this mess like I did last year. Every year there's 2 weeks left of the term and I reach maximum stress levels, send frantic (and unnecessary) emails to profs, consume triple the amount of coffee, and have restless nights peppered with disturbing dreams where my computer has lost all my files or the paper is not actually about narrative complexity but consumption of social media in China and I have 35 hours to research and rewrite. Every year. Here is a glimpse into how my days look in these final moments of the term. 5:45 - Alarm goes off. Hit snooze. 5:50 - Open eyes in a panic that I will sleep through the snooze alarm. Get up. Turn off alarm. 5:52 - Shower. Sometimes quietly sing a Christmas tune (as not to wake sleeping roommates), but more often not. Spend time groggily and exhaustedly think about what I have to do today. 6:10 - Get dressed. Usually wear some variation of novelty tshirt, cardigan, and scarf. 6:13 -

Maybe it's because I've been reading a lot of Thought Catalog lately; or maybe it's because I'm slightly obsessed with documenting things - quotes, books, nailpolishes - in numbered lists; or maybe it's because lists are easy to read (or skim). Whatever the cause, I've decided to compile some things I've been thinking about lately. 25 things I have learned at 25 years old 1.  Math is important, but only some kinds of math : Oh the many nights I (and my dad) slaved over factoring and translations and graphing on the z-axis and y=mx+b! Torturous evenings, my friends, where I could never see the point. And I was right: I've never used this, and thinking about it still makes me feel inadequate and useless. BUT how I wish I had retained the simple but important math of fractions and decimals and percentages and addition. Let me tell you: there's nothing quite as embarrassing as handing in a tax form to your new employer that's several thousand do