Job huntress

Looking for a job is probably the worst thing in the world.

It's stressful.

It's time consuming.

It's nerve-wracking.

I am nearly a college graduate

Someone should want to hire me.

I swear there is nothing good about job hunting, except for the actual getting hired part.

But I haven't reached that part yet.

So I'm going to keep complaining.

Someone give me a job.

K, thanks.

The time has come.

There is a time in everyone's life when she just has to throw on some sweats and a tie-dye t-shirt, throw her untamable hair on top of her head, listen to the Lord of the Rings soundtrack, find a cozy corner of the library, and buckle down and write her term paper.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is that day.

Goodbye Kui.

So there's this girl named Kendra who left on a mission today. She's kind of a big deal.

She is my Kui. 

Kui=best friend/roommate/all-encompassing awesomeness.

She is going to Japan to teach the gospel to her native people. There is nothing more amazing that she could be doing with her life at this point in time.

But I'm going to miss her. I kind of don't know how to live without her.

I may or may not have lived with her for the past 2.5 years. And it has been a complete blast the entire time.

I can talk to her about anything and she accepts that I'm completely crazy.

Our friendship was unexpected and I'm still not sure how or when it happened, but I'm glad it did.

She's great. We have fun. I'm sad she's gone.

Kui, I will miss you. See you in 18 months.

Battle Week.

So I may or may not be in the midst of an epic battle. Yeah, you heard me, epic battle. I'm cool.

You may ask: with whom is this battle? Well, I shall tell you. Otherwise, this blog post would be completely pointless, unless I really just wanted to taunt everyone with mentioning the battle and then not elaborating. This would keep the world in such suspense, hanging on my every word. Actually, that's kind of a brilliant idea. But alas, I can't hold my tongue, because I really do have something to say today.

Epic battle.
In one corner there is me; a college student trying to find the balance between school and the fun I crave at all times. In the other corner we have this vile thing called finals. Don't worry about it, he's just lurking surreptitiously in the corners, ready to pounce at any moment. He truly is a terrible thing. My opponents mere existence causes spontaneous and terribly timed mental breakdowns. He also just enjoys putting the general college populous through pain. Quite the conniving little sucker.

I have taken 2 finals thus far this week. One yesterday (don't worry, I only spent FOUR HOURS on it) and I just finished one. And then there's another tonight.
I am not a fan of evening finals because you go in knowing it's going to be dark when you come out and it's just a horribly sinking feeling. Plus, it's right during dinner. Rude.
Anyway, so tomorrow's goal is to turn in one take home final, trek to the testing center to take my last multiple choice final, and then start and hopefully finish another take home final. Then I will be done! Done with finals by Wednesday. Will this actually happen? Let us hope so.
6 tests in 3 days? I'm a fan. I think that would definitely mean I had defeated, even pummeled, my unworthy opponent.
Secret to my success? Wearing my Ron Weasley t-shirt to every final for the last 3 semesters. Win.
Picture proof? Done.

I'm pretty sure that everyone around me in the library appreciated me taking this pic.

Blood.

I find giving blood to be an interesting experience.

Really, they are just removing some of your life-blood. Weird.

In past blood-giving experiences, I have at one point passed out, and at another point lost the contents of my stomach. They were unpleasant experiences. However, I really do enjoy knowing that I've helped people, so I keep doing it.

Also, I feel that it is my duty to give my blood. You see, it is O-negative.

Everyone wants my blood.

So yesterday I definitely prepared myself. I drank a ridiculous amount of water. Luckily I love my water bottle. And I even made time to make myself a lunch that morning. So I prepared myself before, which is new, and it definitely had a good effect. I didn't get sick or dizzy. I was perfectly fine in fact. Except for the fact that my phlebotomist was totally freaking me out.

I really don't have a problem with blood or needles or anything like that. But when the person sticking you with a needle and swiping your blood is super apologetic, then that makes me lose all faith in her.

Result: my arm is so ridiculously bruised today. Ouch.

Harold.

So I hang out with Harold every night. Literally. Every night last week. In fact, I'm with Harold right this second. You would think that our relationship would be getting stronger, but alas, it is the exact opposite. The more time I spend here, the more I decide that Harold and I have a love-hate relationship. Emphasis on the hate. You could say I spend an unhealthy amount of time with him.

Harold tries to offer me everything I could ever need. Yes, he does have an exorbitant amount of knowledge to share. And yes, he does occasionally allow for some hilarious memories. But overall, my time spent with Harold is anything but enjoyable. In fact, it might even be called painful. He forces me to do homework more than the normal person should. He makes me sit in uncomfortable wooden chairs. I've been told he plays music late at night, but he's never played it for me.

I definitely would love to tell Harold that I never want to see him again, but it's just one of those relationships that I am forced to continue. Sadly.

Harold, you see, has many names. He is also known as the HBLL. Or, for you non-BYUers, the Harold B. Lee Library.

We have a rocky relationship.