today I got accosted by my French professor and 2 minutes into the conversation I was begging him to please not use anymore French words because my brain was starting to hurt from trying to understand whatever he was saying.
20th century tutorial because it was just awkward, fullstop.
when I was walking to u-town with a new friend. she’s an intern at some schmancy fesyun magazine and she was all dressy and I was basically clumsily balancing multiple books on my arms and wearing an oversized t shirt and a pained, pained smile.
biggest hug bb. don’t kick yourself so hard; you ARE good at this, and brilliant in many ways, and you will be okay. just breathe for a bit, okay? am i seeing you tmr?
idg how I can feel okay one moment and then sit down and open my books and then feel like shit because O GOD THIS PAGE DOESN’T SEEM TO HAVE ENOUGH ANNOTATIONS like what the flying fuck ide—whatever. and yes! I am! has g told you we’re going to the museum too? they’ve got pieces from the museé d’orsay, like starry night etc etc. can’t believe it’s only wk 2 and i need a break, wtf.
remember 2 sems ago when I broke down that one time after class and was basically bawling hysterically at g on the ~streets of NUS~ about how stupid I am and how I should just quit because this is the only thing I know and I’m not even that good at it? yeah.