Hope?

I tell myself everyday that there's always hope. But where is it exactly? Who can tell me? Things never get better. But there's always hope. I still have to believe it.
I hate the project I am doing. It's really a wrong choice. I hate that I can't find any handsome style I like that is suitable for my project. Now it's November 07, and I am dead. No matter how many hopes I have, I am dead. My professor is not helpful, but hateful. It's my fault to have nothing good although it's been two months. But it's her fault to make me hate her...