I had the hardest time getting out of bed, but I know if I stayed, I’d have missed out on the things I had to do. So I got on, like any other responsible, trying adult.

Yesterday I found out my industrial placement report length is 60–100 pages, or roughly 32,000 words. How on earth am I going to get it done in 20 days? So I ended up ranting in an email to my course coordinator at 4 in the morning. And now my lecturer would probably know I snitched, and she’s having a session with the entire class tomorrow, great. As if I didn’t have enough problems already, here it comes.

I also had the last of my supposed laser sessions today, which only confirmed my hatred for big salons that prey on women’s insecurities and manipulate and exploit them under false pretenses. Firstly, they never give you the full picture; it’s just a beautiful dream they sell you. Because they want to get you on board, especially if it’s a series of treatments or procedures. During the first session, my therapist was so nice, warm, and friendly, but today, on my supposed last day, she was distant and barely said anything. I felt so manipulated. But now I have to book at least 8 more sessions to get the ideal result, which is based on my research and what they initially told me was nothing close to it. Great, rip off people in the midst of the recession, adding to the burden of being a South Asian woman in today’s modern world.