Deadlines, ahh!

To the left of this laptop lies a stack of papers, worksheets, and deadlines that should be furiously digested and consumed for my education. To my right are notes for my high-school newspaper editorial. I’ve spent most of today making sure all my assignments were completed so I could have the rest of the night off for my writing. Well, I’m having a dilemma, because I have nothing to write about.

I’ve rummaged back and forth between my bathroom and sofa, hoping to be struck with some sort of universal truth/answer to my article; why do we, as students place so much stress, anxiety, and brain cells on college applications?

I don’t have an answer, nor do I think will I receive one by tomorrow. It’s frustrating when you’re waiting for the next great idea to smack you against the forehead like some sort of epiphany. I don’t know, it’s different when I’m writing based on introspection, and when a prompt is staring blankly at my face.

Hmm, I’m not cut out to be a journalist. Deadlines scare me.