My Turn, Your Turn
God, what a completely f*cked time, right? Anyway, hi. How are you today? I feel like total shit. I barely left my bed. I ate approximately 456 grams of carbohydrates in the form of Reese’s peanut butter eggs, a burrito, and bread my mom made the other day. Oh, shit. I'm so sorry. Not the inspiration you were hoping for? You know, I'm a recovering pessimist. I grew up having an attitude that made both my baton coach and my parents probably want to murder me. I once threw my baton so hard at the studio wall I got kicked out of baton class. I was 12. I had virtually no confidence growing up. Idiots in middle school made jokes and I believed those jokes and wound up with the self-esteem of what I imagine a literal fucking turtle having. I have a point here, I swear. As my confidence developed and years of traumatic experiences ensued, I told myself I probably had two choices in this life: I could continue to be a pessimistic nightmare and choose to believe