The truth is, I’m probably the most disastrous person you will ever meet. I don’t say that lightly.
A majority of the time, I can’t find my phone, and if I can, it’s probably dead. Why’s it dead? I probably misplaced my charger, again.
If there’s uneven ground, a crack, or a piece of duct tape, expect me to fall face-first.
I usually am on time, but I will probably forget half the items I was supposed to bring. Don’t worry, I will always offer to drive. I just can’t promise we won’t get stuck on the edge of a mountain.
My life is nothing short of chaotic, a hot mess, or whatever you want to call it.
Most of the people in my life find me entertaining; they say that the constant chaos I live within is what makes me, me.
Genuinely, if I’m within three feet of anything, it will crumble, so I guess their right.
I am and will forever be a hot mess, and I’m okay with that. So many times I tried so incredibly hard to play into the whole put-together, clean girl act. Every time, I fall apart within the first hour.
Honestly, the biggest struggle living in a somewhat constant state of chaos isn’t running out of gas or leaving for class with a dead iPad.
It’s the what ifs. This phrase has a chokehold on my thoughts, provoking a never-ending train of anxiety.
Recently, it seems like every question I’m asked, the answers I don’t know, because what if? I don’t want to tell people my plans, because what if I fail? It just proves how disastrous I actually am.
What if I don’t tell them an exact plan? I don’t want them to think I am not making an effort to get my life together.
What if my B minus in statistics last year prevents me from going to grad school, or what if I get a C when I take science, then my GPA is shot?
What if I don’t say the right thing? What if I do?
Day to day, I’m terrified that if I fail, people are not going to be surprised. I worry that no one expects me to succeed. At the same time, I’m excited because there’s a part of me that’s so incredibly driven and knows I can reach my goals, and realizes that the only person who ever refused to embrace my chaotic ways of life was myself.
More likely than not, I’ll fall up the stairs when I get the the lecture hall tomorrow morning, then I’ll probably realize I left my textbook back at my dorm, but so what?
I get up, go to class, and I’ll make it work, just like I always seem to do.