As long as it needs to be...

"As long as it needs to be" is a phenomenal rule. Instead, here I am, forcing my three-page paper into eight pages. It's safe to say I think this is pointless and an extreme waste of time because I'm just babbling at this point. So here's what I'm doing instead: wasting my time by making lists of things I could do instead of making this paper longer:

·      Sleep
·      Hang out with friends
·      Investigate the lost cheese-it
·      Discover the meaning of life
·      Write this list
·      Watch House
·      Pack for break
·      Do laundry
·      Organize my Easy Mac
·      Watch Pablo swim
·      Learn to sing fast like Ed Sheeran
·      Hide the Kit Kats from everyone, including myself
·      Take a shower in the awesome stall
·      Watch the Frozen behind-the-scenes thing for the fourth time in the past 22 hours
·      Watch Frozen – the actual movie
·      Dig a snowcave – I don’t know what that is, but it sounds cool
·      Creep on pictures from Texas #CCTakesTexas #Bitter
·      Be artsy
·      Find my roommate
·      Plan my inevitable naps for tomorrow
·      Put post-it notes all over our door
·      Crawl into my bed and hibernate
·      Check if my roomie’s protein bars are made of sand
·      Move this damn chair so I stop hitting my head on the lamp 24/7
·      Blog this list (oh wait…)
·      Bitch about how my paper doesn’t need to be any longer (oh wait…)
·      Pretty much anything under the sun and the moon and the stars

Angst.

This post comes through blaring Florence + the Machine and my angst as a human being.

In all honesty, it's internal bitching from the little bitch girl I tend to be when I'm pissed off, especially at myself... Please accept this apology for what is to come, and also take it as a warning of what is indeed to come.

I am continually frustrated by the ways that I respond to everything. Everything anyone says comes as a personal attack to me and my weird brain, and I respond thus. How does this work out in the grand scheme of things? Pretty terribly.

We recently had a couple/marriage counselor in our class for a couple hours, and she talked about the role the amygdala plays in our responses to everything. As a lover of everything psychology and how-we-work-y, I was instantly intrigued. Here's what she said:

• Prefrontal cortex isn't involved in an amygdala flare
• An amygdala flare is where you find yourself going from 0-60 just like that (insert snap here)
• Facing chronic stress increases the size of your amygdala
• An increased size of amygdala leads to oversensitivity and interpreting others' responses as personal attacks

Nothing has ever made this much sense to me in my life.

So here I am. I'm supposed to be writing a two-page paper and working on my eight-page paper (I finished the six-page paper two hours ago), but I'm too angsty and pissed and GEH to do anything but vent hopelessly and hope that nobody actually takes the time to read this.

That being said, I apologize and now I'm going to write my papers and go to bed.