Sometimes, it’s hard to keep things in perspective. I spend many hours of my day thinking about writing. About how I wish I were better at it. I read what I write and I cringe. I ask myself why I even bother to try. Why is it so important to me? Why can’t I just give it up and do the things I am good at? Inevitably, I then wallow in misery and tell myself that I’m not good at anything. I can’t write, I can’t draw, and I can’t play any instruments. I can’t even code all that well. I speak seven languages, all of them half-assed. I did well at school, but what does that mean? Nothing in real life. I’m decent at many things, but I’m not great at anything. And I want to be. I really do.

I swear to myself that I will no longer try. I say that I will just read amazing books and appreciate the people who are capable of creating them. I will enjoy good movies and masterpieces of art. I don’t have to be an artist to be a great person. It’s okay to not have the talent to write. I have to stop the torture of putting myself out there just to get disappointed over and over again. If I don’t try, I can’t fail. Yes, I say, I will stop. I’m not writing anymore.

Until the next morning, when I wake up with an idea and run to the keyboard. This is the one, I fool myself, this one will be my masterpiece.

And the vicious circle begins once more.

I finally registered for all my classes. Yeay!

Saturday night Jake and I went to a restaurant by our house to have dinner. The weather was so wonderful that we looked for a place with outside seating. As we sat on the bench outside the restaurant, waiting to get a table, a small, brown mouse scurried by us towards the tables. These tables were outside the restaurant but within a low barricade the restaurant had put to separate itself from the sidewalk. Jake and I looked at each other and waited for the shrieks to come. Ten minutes later, we were seated and forgot all about the mouse, until the woman in the table behind ours cried out a few unintelligible words as we saw the poor mouse run for his life squeezing below the tent barricade. The owner of the restaurant simply shook his head as the animal tried to find freedom. I truly think it’s impossible to live in New York City if you’re afraid of mice or bugs of any sort. You wouldn’t be able to walk down the street or use the subway. As this little mouse made its way across the road, two women walked by and one shrieked while the other said, “Why are you so scared? It’s Mickey Mouse.” No joke.