No but it’s fucking 3 AM I have to go to bed now I was being so good about going to bed before midnight while staying with my parents and now I’ve completely fucked that up again

theyaylady replied to your post “Seriously though I’m gonna need a really well-paying job after I…”

It’s crazy! One of the careers I’ve been looking at lately has a starting salary almost 30k higher than what my mum gets after 25 years in her job…

I know, it’s pretty insane.  I don’t know, I feel kind of bad because my parents have both been working for 30ish years, give or take, and they both earn 45k and they’ve worked their asses off to get there, and I’m just sitting over here like hey I could graduate from my Masters in five years and be earning 60k and it kind of feels too easy even though it’s a shit-ton of work.  But I guess that’s years and years of feeling guilty for everything that my parents have given me (even though they’ve never once made me feel like I should feel guilty) and yeah I don’t know all I know is that it would be really nice to be earning that amount of money and be able to afford to do nice things for them and stuff?


every 1st september we joke about getting ready for hogwarts to cover up the very real and very very deep scars of never getting our letters

Seriously though I’m gonna need a really well-paying job after I FINALLY fucking graduate post-grad and shit because between one incomplete semester in 2008 (including some very expensive university accommodation) and a whole year of wasting time in the wrong degree last year (including yet more very expensive university accommodation), as well as actually paying for all of my actual RELEVANT study, I’m going to have a student loan the size of a small African nation’s GDP.

Luckily for me I’ve seen the kind of salary that psychologists earn in New Zealand and even as a graduate it would be one and a half times what either of my parents earns now - after 10 years of working in the field I’d be earning more than both of them combined.  I mean, it’s not about the money, of course (I mean, I wanted to compose music for a living before, God knows I’m not choosing a career based on economic prospects), but that certainly does sweeten the deal of staying at university forfuckingever.

theyaylady replied to your post: The choosing-next-year’s-papers crisis…

You could do the feminist paper?

decided against it even though it would be cool because if I get one of my 200-level psych papers out of the way it’ll take me significantly less time to graduate which is what I want because time is ticking and I still have to do post-grad if I want to do clinical and/or child/youth, and I already have MORE than enough electives to fill up my degree

Because I can’t help myself I’ve been roughly planning my papers for the next two years and I’ve worked out that there are ways that I can take 200-level Psych papers next year and 300-level papers the year after which means I could be completely finished with my undergrad, both majors, by mid-way through 2017 (and I’d only have to do two papers in that semester).

Which is both better than I thought and horrifying because oh my god I will be 27 by then.

And then I’ll still have to do post-grad.

I have sufficiently terrified myself, now it’s time to go to bed and stare at the ceiling and ponder all the endless days stretching out before me and try not to panic about how I’m supposed to survive them.

Okay he’s apparently not dead? I am so confused

Oh my god no Lorne is my favourite :(

The choosing-next-year’s-papers crisis is over, I’ve found two 200-level papers that I can take concurrently with PSYC 122 so no problem.

(I refuse to take another 100-level paper because between the ones I took when I was studying music and the ones I’m taking this year and will have to take next year, I will have done TEN FUCKING 100-level papers so it would just be a waste of my time so one of those psych papers will do nicely)






So Kate ODs and then Angel sticks her in the shower and suddenly she’s fine again? Like dude you should probably go to the hospital you know?

Ah, September. I can already smell the Green Day jokes