I will now fully and readily admit that I spend a good portion of my life, freaking out about things that I probably don't need to freak out about.
It's just in my nature. My parents should have considered the future and gave me Stressed as a middle name instead of Olivia.
This is not to say that there aren't things to be stressed about in my life. I'm in the middle of apartment hunting for a nice grown-up place to live with some vintage character, in a good area, with a quick walk to the train. Nice to meet you, I believe heavily in fairytales.
On top of this, I'm trying to re-write my resume and send it off to a bunch of places and get a decent part-time job for the summer and next school year/ probably the rest of my life because my chosen career path was writing. Also, it's midterms next week so there's a lot on my plate.
Despite this, the sun is out and temperatures in the city have exceeded 40 for three days straight and I've miraculously decided to adopt my mother's "things happen for a reason and things have a way of working themselves out" philosophy, if only for the moment.
If you measure your seasons by outerwear, it finally seems like it's jean jacket weather.
If you measure your seasons by coffee, I took mine iced this morning without fearing a bout of pneumonia afterwards.
I'm sitting on my bed finishing up a damn good coconut cream doughnut and I'm probably going to be finding coconut flakes mixed up in my sheets for the days to come but there are always worse things you know?
I have a feeling everything is going to work itself out in the end.
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