Needy.

I never saw myself as that need before I got to college. I've finally realized it's because I had my family to rely on. Whenever I would be upset, I could go to my mom and cry, and she would hug me and tell me not to cry, and that everything would be all right. It's not like I did it frequently, but when I needed to, I could. Now, physically, I don't have them. My mom talks to me on the phone, but it's always rushed and in the middle of her job (which I shouldn't expect her to do anyway), or when she's exhausted after her job and/or classes.

Then I went to college. I immediately found a boyfriend who would hold me when I cried, and tell me everything would be all right.
Then we broke up, but I would still feel the need to have someone do that, and say that, so I would go to him, and he would.

I screwed up a lot today, which is really the pinnacle to this hell week, as Jordan has so aptly named it. I missed my "hearing" about our messy-to-the-point-of-hazardous room, when of course, I would have been the only roommate showing up anyway. (responsible, no?). Not only that, but remember how I missed my Italian class on Monday, you know, the last one I can miss before dropping my grade? Well, she sent us an email telling us not to miss today (final quiz) or friday. I missed it today. I missed the final quiz, too. And, I have no idea what will be on our listening exam on friday, and unlike in my Spanish class, this actually will be a problem, because I don't know Italian. Oh, that , and I haven't seen the teacher or students for over a week, nor have I even thought about that wretched language, save accidentally thinking "numero due" instead of number two.

And you know what? As I rushed (trying not to fall & die on the slippery slushy snow) to my Spanish class, continually reprimanding myself for wasting my time (my life, it seems, at this point), for staying up late for stupid reasons, and for just failing in general, I longed for someone to tell me it would be all right. How immature that is! How selfish! How pathetic!

I want to grow up already. Get over it, Sarah. Grow up.
Stop whining and start doing something. Stop failing so badly.

I tried to go to people I was supposed to meet about the room issue, and another lady who is too sweet for words told me that it didn't matter that I wasn't there, that it was mostly a warning (awfully big deal for a warning, huh?) to get us to clean up, and that she'd tell the other person I stopped by. It was very sweet of her, to the point where I almost cried as I descended the possibly-deadly slope back to my dorm. Now I have to email my Italian teacher, throw myself on her mercy, and hope she relents, somehow.
I feel so bad. The one class I felt I could guarantee has been jeopardized.

I'm so angry and upset right now.
All at myself, too. Who's fault is it? Yup, as always, yours truly.

If I ever get better at fixing my life, and moreover, my academics, I'm sure I'll be happy-as-a-clam Sarah again.
Till then, I'm going to try not to grumble and scowl too much (why should everyone else witness that if it's my fault, anyway?), and I'm going to continue to hope, pray, and actually try to fix things.
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You know, I hate to admit it, because really, it's probably more trouble than it's worth, but the snow really does make everything look so pretty. Until you look down to see the slush. I am pondering this, and I'm sure there's some sort of symbolism to it. Everything has it's advantages and disadvantages, and if you look for either, you can find either. You can't ignore the mess that it makes, you can only make the best of it?
I don't know.

Despite the overabundance of slush in my life, those neatly trimmed trees and the snow-covered hills do add a breath of hope.