i graduate next year. madness.

i guess i really haven't thought this through. story of my life.
i kinda regret getting my associate's in high school. 'cause now i'm always in...not limbo, but something a lot like it.
everyone in my classes is super old. (especially the fine guys. there is nothing more disappointing than being in class with someone who is like 22 and fiiine like 'i'd just like to thank your mama and daddy for making you fine and remembering oh right, i'm 17...you'd go to jail...dangit...') and everyone my age is in high school still. so we have nothing in common except age. i can't talk to a high school guy about anything of any particular importance. and, not to sound as shallow as i truly am, they aren't as (faux) intellectual as i am, annnd they ain't got nary a car nor a job. and now that mr. car is deceased (R.I.P. mr car...gone but never forgotten!) and i have to pay the deductible...ummm i got exactly no time for someone who's broke as me. what we finna do? sit and be broke together? nawww. that's how babies get made, for lack of anything else to do.
when i'm this broke, it's laughably cute--derek yesterday went through my wallet, and i said, "you don't have to bother, ain't nothing in there but 30 cents." derek said, "you know the contents of your wallet well..." that's because when you're poor, err cent is precious. you give your money nicknames, like old faithful 1992 penny, and trusty 2005 dime. because y'ain't tryna spend it. yeah, i know the dates. shut up. times are hard. we in a recession. in these trying economic times, err cent counts...
but a dude who's this broke? no bueno, papi. you ain't got a hustle? like at all? none? even iii have a hustle, albeit it's babysitting. but still. babysitting adds up, eventually. i hope.
anyway.
so i can't win.
i'm a little girl in a grown woman's world. but i'm still expected to conform to the same rules as the adults that surround me, while maintaining that, yes, i am a child.
do you see my frustration?
i wish i could play the age card--"i couldn't understand this reading, sir, because i wasn't born in 1985, and i have no recollection of president clinton's terms"--but if i told anybody here how old i was, the pressure would just be harder. and i'm tired of pressure.
and--dangit, i forgot my lsat book--i have to take the lsat soon, and i'm stressed out about it. somedays i wonder if law is even really what i want to go into. 'cause i HATE school. with a passion that surprises most people. just because i'm good at this, doesn't mean i enjoy it. if i was a math prodigy, i don't think i would like it any more than i do now.
and my paralegal class is okay, but i don't know if i want to do.
but i feel like i picked this career in what? ninth grade or sum'n...and now i have to stick with it, because i've done too much thus far on that particaular track. what do i even like?
(reading and sleeping. that's it. and unless tempurpedic is looking for a lifetime bed tester, i'm screwed utterly. )

bollocks.
now what?

***for a humorous sidebar, since i laid some heavy ish down, i'll add that deren and i wrestled for like half an hour last night. why? because deren decided that it would be a great idea.
she came in my room.
knocked me out my bed.
made me lose my page.
and commenced to beat me.
with my umbrella.
she also messed up my bedsheets.
and that wrecks my nerves. it's bad enough that i sleep like somebody's fighting me in my sleep...she gotta maliciously snatch my sheet from being tucked? so i commence to beat her back. and at this point she--my sister lightskin, y'all, and i'm brownskin...we don't look related, at all; and her hair is straight, and mine's napped up, and i wear glasses and she supposed to, but she don't. she got a contact for her left eye. hilarious. though i can't watch her put that thing in, it makes me cry...but i'm so off track at this point--is all red on her arms, she got bite marks on her legs and i've attempted to tear her hair out her head from the root. and what is she doing? crying?
no.
screaming at me?
no.
is she at least bloodied and bruised?
nope. this heifer is giggling like a crackhead.
i just don't understand.
have nice day like roxanne shante.***